What Were They Thinking
by 554Laura
Summary: Thoughts and feelings from different characters in Season 11 and 12. Of course, I don't own Bones...
1. Chapter 1 The Source of the Strength

Booth gripped the edge of the sink, trying to keep from collapsing, shaky from the searing pain. He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he checked the wad of gauze on his wound. Both the gauze and his shirt were saturated with his own blood.

Exhaling slowly, he let go of the sink and tried to rinse out the gauze. Gut shot. He knew it could mean a slow and painful death. The rush of blood had slowed to a steady trickle, but he couldn't get it to stop completely. He'd tried to apply pressure to the wound, hoping to make the blood clot, but every move he made kept the wound open and oozing.

He studied himself in the mirror. Even under his tan he could see the paleness seeping in around his lips. He realized he might be fighting a losing battle, but he had to act like he felt strong enough to keep the jackals in the other room at bay. They were waiting for any reason to tear into him….

Booth grabbed the sink again as dizziness washed over him. He shook it off, and glared at himself in the mirror. He had to be strong for another reason. Bones didn't know where he was. He couldn't stand the thought of what she was going through...how worried she must be. He had to survive to tell her the truth. He couldn't die without her knowing what had really happened. She might be thinking the worst about him, wondering why he had done these things and why he'd kept it from her...why he was mixed up with Jared again, putting himself in danger. He had to set the record straight. He had to get out of this mess and tell her everything.

He gritted his teeth, pulled himself straight, and pounded the edge of the sink with his fist. He had to see Bones again. He'd use that thought to provide him the strength and the will to survive…...


	2. The Bond of the Brothers

Booth lay back in his hospital bed, trying to relax. He wanted to go home, but the surgeon was concerned about the amount of damage done by the bullet and the chance of infection inherent in an abdominal wound, especially after the silver nitrate he'd packed into it. He had to stay a few more days.

Bones had just left after bringing the kids by to see their daddy. They'd had a short visit before Bones took them to school and daycare. She was going to check in with the lab and come back shortly, knowing he'd be restless spending all day alone in his room. But the room was quiet now, and his mind began to wander.

Booth smiled to himself, and thanked God again for the incredible woman who had chosen to be his wife. He knew he didn't deserve her, but she loved him anyway, even after he'd told her everything about what had happened with Jared. He'd asked for her forgiveness, but she told him he didn't need to ask...there was nothing to forgive. Jared had needed his help, and she knew he couldn't refuse his little brother.

"Damn it, Jared…" Booth thought, shaking his head. "How did you always get mixed up in this shit? It was a crazy plan…" As usual, Jared had become involved in a risky situation which he couldn't control. It blew up in their faces, costing Jared his life. It wasn't really a surprise. Jared had always pushed limits….had always run the ridge, about ready to fall or dodging a bullet, a step away from failure. Even as a kid, Jared seemed to try to provoke his dad and his older brother, just to see what would happen. "I guess you were never satisfied with being safe, were you, little brother? Always the daredevil, doing things your own way…."

Booth glanced at the table next to the bed and saw one of the pictures Bones had left...the one from Jared's ninth birthday. He picked it up and ran his fingers across his brother's face. "I'm so sorry, Jared...I tried, I really did. You know I did. You know I was there for you." Tears began to flow down Booth's cheeks. "It was just too much... I wanted to take care of you...to protect you, but there was nothing I could do. Things just didn't work out." He wiped his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. "I hope you get to rest now, buddy...safe there with Pops, Nana, and Dad. Maybe you'll be happy now, even with no more ridges to run. I love you, little brother….I'll see you again some day…." Booth smiled through his tears…"and I'll still be able to kick your ass, even in Heaven, because, no matter what, I'm always gonna be your big brother…."


	3. Chapter 3 Ashes to Ashes

It was late, and the house was dark and quiet. The only light was from the lamp next to Booth's favorite chair. He sat there with his glass of Scotch thinking about the last few weeks since Jared's death.

Bones was right. Going back to work had been the right decision. It helped him to have a schedule and a sense of purpose. Keeping his mind occupied had prevented him from dwelling on all the possible scenarios with Jared….things he might've done differently...mistakes that were made… terrible things that were said. Booth knew he'd have to address all of those things some day to completely get over his grief, but it'd take more time. He'd get there eventually, with Bones to help him along the way.

He was also glad Jared's cremains were found. Tomorrow he was going to get Christine a step stool to replace the box she'd been using to get into Hank's crib. Booth glanced at the plastic box on top of the bookcase. Now that the ashes had been found, they could plan the memorial service…..and then it hit home. Jared was really gone. The ashes were all that were left to show for the 40 years of his life. There were no kids, just a bitter ex-wife and shady friends who'd melted away at the first bit of trouble. Bones had wondered if a memorial service was a wise idea, but Booth knew he needed to have one so he have some closure. It would give him a chance to grieve.

Booth rose and picked up the box of cremains. "For a minute there, Jared, I thought you were messing with me again. Sometimes you were more trouble than you were worth, you know that? Did you think it was funny that I was upset over something silly? You know, you could be a real pain in the ass." Booth sighed heavily. "I'm glad we found you, Buddy. I promise we're going to find a good place for you to rest, okay? And we're gonna have one hell of a wake for you, and the fanciest memorial service we can arrange."

Booth brushed away a tear. He hadn't been able to do anything to prevent his brother's death, but he could sure as hell give him a damn fine funeral.


	4. Chapter 4 The Meeting

The GA meeting was winding down. Gavin looked at the people in the circle. "Does anyone else want to share before we close?"

Booth coughed softly and raised his hand. Gavin nodded at him, and Booth stood up.

"My name is Seeley, and I have a gambling problem."

"Hi, Seeley."

"My last case involved some guys who were in a fantasy football league. They played for money. I don't know for sure if it was gambling, but maybe it was. It kind felt like a gateway to more involvement in gambling." Booth looked over at Gavin, who motioned for him to continue.

"The thing is, it kinda gave me a little itch. I was interested in the league, and which guys had what players. Fantasy football can be a lot of fun. We talked to some of the participants about which players they had chosen and how the trades worked, and all the stats that went with it. I was even thinking about getting in a league. There was a lot of money involved….so much that the league commissioner in our case killed someone over some prize money."

Booth took a deep breath and continued. "I realized then that I will always need the support of my family and of my companions here at GA." He looked around the circle. "Because of what you've helped me with here, I was able to acknowledge this recent urge to gamble to my wife instead of hiding it. Acknowledging it takes all the mystery out of it….it lessens the thrill if it's out in the open. My wife has chosen to stand by me and support me even when I tell her about my urges to gamble."

Gavin nodded and smiled. "Being open with our loved ones allows them to help us in recovery. That way we're all invested in the success of the individual."

"True…." Booth brushed away a tear. "It also makes me realize what a truly blessed man I am. Having the love and support of my wife is priceless. I have two beautiful children. I never want to gamble that away. There's too much to lose. So I want to thank all of you for helping me see the truth."

"You've helped yourself, Seeley. Admitting the problem and being proactive to keep it from getting worse is definitely the right thing to do. Thanks for sharing."

Booth smiled. He felt a lot better after getting things off his chest. "Thanks for listening."


	5. Chapter 5 Treats for Tricksters

Brennan and Booth were driving home from the Jeffersonian, still laughing about the Halloween pranks they'd played on each other. They both knew couples that had fun together stayed together. After a few minutes their discussions turned to other couples they worked with.

"I think Hodgins should wear his demon contacts all the time. I don't think Angela would mind too much." Booth chuckled. "I can just imagine Caroline's face if he wore them to court one day."

"That would be quite amusing, although I suppose it might be distracting to the jurors." Brennan smirked. "I wouldn't mind having a set of lenses like that...or maybe cat eye lenses."

"What? That would be cool, I guess...but it doesn't really match your Wonder Woman persona."

"I may not always be Wonder Woman, Booth...I might want to be a lioness some year, or maybe Cam would let me be Catwoman some year."

Booth was imagining Brennan in a skintight black catsuit, and he was becoming somewhat distracted….

"Yeah...I don't know...I still like Wonder Woman, but Catwoman might be nice." He decided to change the subject. "So what did you think about Abbie and Crane? Crane looked like he was dressed for Halloween the whole time he was here. That was some wild get up, especially that long coat."

Brennan thought a minute…."I was wondering if Crane is an historical reenactor. He's a brilliant historian, so that would be a logical extension. I know there are people who do reenactments for the Civil War and the Revolutionary War…maybe he finds the clothing comfortable, or maybe it helps him understand the past better."

"I don't know, Bones...that's kinda weird. And I'm trying to figure out how a British guy got to be a specialist in American History.."

"Crane tried to explain it to me, but his family history is quite convoluted, and it was difficult to understand. It seems they've traveled back and forth across the Atlantic many times between the Revolution and the Civil War."

Booth nodded. "Crane is so good at explaining stuff it's almost like he was right there. It was so cool that one of his ancestors knew George Washington. I always hated history in school because it was so boring. Too bad Crane wasn't my teacher."

"Finding that tomb in the Capitol was very exciting, wasn't it? What an amazing historical find."

"Almost as exciting as anthropology, right, Bones? I wonder what else we could find around here. It makes me want to look for other weird stuff in DC."

Brennan agreed. "I do think it's interesting that a small town like Sleepy Hollow has a resident historian." She smiled at her husband. "Ms. Mills seemed very impressed with you, Booth. I think you're an excellent example for other law enforcement professionals, even if you don't always succeed in pulling pranks on me."

Booth looked at Brennan in amazement. "I wasn't successful? You practically jumped out of your skin when I came out from under that sheet."

"You know that's not possible, Booth. People can't leap out of their epidermis. I would think that an experienced law enforcement professional such as yourself would be more stealthy when trying to blend into their surroundings."

"Yeah, you're right, Bones...next time I'll jump out from under the cover on the table better. Hey, I wonder how much candy we have left. I'm kinda hungry."

"That candy is going in the trash…"

"No way. What we don't eat can be shipped to overseas military personnel, but I'm going to do my best to make a dent in it."

"Booth…" Brennan purred…"If you eat too much, you may not fit into your Captain America briefs very well….and I do enjoy you in those briefs….."

Booth sighed. Not only was she correct, she was trying to win the argument by mentioning those briefs….she loved them, and he was thrilled at the way she loved them. "Okay….no candy. But how about another kind of treat?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Brennan smiled slyly. "I think that can be arranged…."


	6. Chapter 6 At the Television Store

"Can I help you, sir?" A young man in a bright blue shirt joined Booth at the wall of televisions in the back of the store.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was just admiring this baby." Booth pointed to a 100 inch big screen television.

"Excellent choice, sir. This television has all of the latest technological advances available. You have great speakers, curved screen, theater quality sound and picture, access to Netflix, HBO.." He nodded at Booth's tee shirt. "This would be great for watching those Flyers, right?" It'd be just like sitting next to the rink, right? And baseball...it would make you feel like you were down on the field waiting for that fly ball, you know?"

Booth was truly in love, but…"I'm really more interested in a tv for our bedroom, and this might be a little too big. I want something we can see across the room, you know, but I don't wanna feel like I'm in a movie theater."

"Of course. Here's a fine television for the price, sir. Again, great pixel count, LED, backlight, 55 inches. This model is great for watching movies, especially some of those on HBO that might put you and your partner in the bedroom kind of mood." The salesman gave Booth a knowing smile.

"Yeah…." Booth was lost in thought for a minute...he definitely did NOT need anything to help him get in the mood with his wife…."So how much is this one?"

"It's a bargain. 3500 dollars."

"Jesus! I didn't pay that much for my first car."

"Sir, this is a SMART TV. It can answer your phone...you can send texts and receive texts, order meals, shop online, talk, chat with friends, all while watching your favorite programs. It even has 4 way split screen. It's a great way to watch sports together with your friends without having to leave home."

"Well, do you have any average intelligence televisions? I just need to watch tv on it. My wife's not convinced we need a television in our bedroom anyway. She thinks it's going to ruin our sex life, so it needs to be something a little less pricey…"

The salesman was miffed. "I see. Well, over here we have our lower priced sets. Maybe one of these will work."

"So how do I know what size to get? They all look the same to me." Booth stood scratching his head.

The salesman smirked. "Size does matter. In televisions as in romance, bigger is always better."

"Enough with the bedroom stuff. 50 inches? You think that'll do it?"

"Yes, that's the size most people get for the bedroom. Do you want me to ring one up for you?"

"Nah...I better go home and measure to make sure it fits where I want it to go. Thanks." Booth casually strolled to the front of the store and left.

The disgruntled salesman walked over to the register where the other salesclerks were laughing at him. "What's so funny?"

"Just that you got stuck with Agent Booth. He comes in about every other week and drools over that 100 inch television, asks about a smaller one, and he never buys a thing. You're the new guy, so it was your turn. Welcome to the sales team!"


	7. Chapter 7 Statistics

Booth and Brennan were driving to a crime scene. After a few miles of quiet, Booth cleared his throat.

"So did Cam say how her dinner with Sebastian went?" Booth glanced at Bones as she looked at her phone.

"I didn't ask. She'll probably be at the crime scene, so perhaps you can ask her yourself." Brennan glanced at her husband as he looked out the side window. She knew he didn't really approve of Cam's date so soon after she'd ended a relationship with Arastoo, but he was trying to deal with it as best he could.

Booth frowned and shook his head. "No, I can't ask her myself. It's really none of my business."

"But gossiping is okay? I'm not sure I follow your reasoning, Booth."

"Fine.", he grumbled. He glanced at the rear view mirror and then sideways at his wife. "Listen, about what I said the other night…."

Brennan was confused. "You've said many things to me in the past few nights. Could you be more specific?"

"Well, remember, we were talking about Cam and moving on to new relationships, and I said I didn't like thinking of you with another guy. And I don't! So no divorce or anything like that, but if I were to go before you, then…..", Booth exhaled slowly, "then if you found someone you loved like you love me, then I would want you to be happy and in a relationship."

Brennan took a few seconds to process what Booth had said. "Well, realistically, if you were dead you would have no input into my decision to have a relationship with someone else." She saw the grimace on Booth's face. "However, I think your basic premise is based on inaccuracies, and is therefore flawed."

"Flawed? What inaccuracies? You said yourself I'll probably die before you. You even used statistics."

"That's not the premise I'm referring to, Booth. You said if I found someone to love as much as I love you, you would approve of me entering into another long term relationship. However, based on my analysis of the current situation, I feel quite confident I would not be able to find someone to love as much as I love you. It's statistically improbable. Therefore, you have very little to worry about."

A grin slowly spread across Booth's face as he figured out what Bones meant. "Bones, that may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me...statistically improbable. Thanks. I love you, too."


	8. Chapter 8 Practical Gifts

If there was one thing Seeley Booth could do to perfection, it was irritating his wife. From time to time he enjoyed teasing her, especially if he felt she was being overly serious about something. Today he was teasing her about Christmas gifts as they were driving to their next meeting.

The jet ski had been the opening gambit. Of course, Booth really wanted a jet ski, but the main function of asking for one for Christmas was to get a rise out of Bones. She had rolled her eyes and made statements about who was acting like an adult and who was acting like a child, even though she did seem amused about the idea of her husband wearing 'feetie' pajamas. Now it was time for the next salvo.

"You know, Bones...Pops always said that when you get too grown up to celebrate like a kid at Christmas all you get for a gift is underwear."

"Hmmm. Underwear is a very practical gift. I need some new undergarments." Brennan was studying her phone, trying to avoid this discussion. She obviously knew she was going to have to be the adult in this situation.

Booth turned to look out the side window so she couldn't see the big grin he wore. The black lace bustier with matching panties he'd bought as a Christmas gift for his wife was definitely not practical underwear...and truth be told, it was really more for him than for her. He was very much looking forward to her modeling them for him on Christmas night.

He turned back and gave her a sideways glance. "You're right. Practical gifts are good. I think I'm going to get you a new hand vacuum to replace the one that broke last month." He noticed the little flicker of irritation on her face and laughed to himself. The hand vacuum had already been replaced, but he had saved the box. Her new diamond earrings were going to be wrapped in it. He hoped for once he might really surprise her.

"I think hand vacuums and small appliances make good gifts, Booth. Maybe we can get a new can opener as well." Booth smirked. Bones was trying to be calm and logical, but he could hear the edge in her voice. Time for the icing on the cake.

"Well, Bones, to be perfectly honest, I've been thinking about the whole Christmas gift situation for quite a while now, and since you don't really believe in Christmas anyway, I'm not going to give you a gift at all. I don't want to force my beliefs on you."

"What?" She tried unsuccessfully to hide her dismay. "No gift? But you always….I mean, you've gotten me gifts in previous years...but, I suppose you're right…I don't believe the whole 'born in a manger' myth, so perhaps I shouldn't expect a gift."

"Yeah, well, you always say that gifts are a way to establish dominance over other people, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." He glanced at her to see how she was reacting to his idea.

"Well, I appreciate that you understand my point of view, Booth, but you've said in the past that it makes you happy to give me gifts. I don't want to take that away from you." She smiled sweetly at her husband.

He grinned back at her. "So you're saying it's okay if I get you a Christmas gift? You won't be offended?"

"Of course not. If it makes your Christmas better when you buy me a gift, I want you to do that."

"Okay, Bones. I might be able to come up with a little something." He knew she'd be surprised with the arrangements he'd made for her to spend two weeks at a symposium on the Anasazi culture at the University of New Mexico. It was a good thing she thought gifts were acceptable. "So...can I have a jet ski? Please?"

"Booth….be realistic...how often would you use it?"

"I don't know. I've never had one before." He winked at her. "You might like it, too…"

She rolled her eyes and groaned, pretending to be annoyed, but then she smiled to herself. The arrangements had already been made. Booth's shiny new jet ski would be in the garage on Christmas morning. Maybe she'd finally be able to surprise him.

"Well, I guess we'll never know, Booth. Maybe I should get you something practical, too. I know...clothing is practical...I'll get you a Philadelphia Penguins shirt. That's the team you like, correct?"

"What? No...Look, it's the Flyers. You do that on purpose, don't you, Bones?"

"How about a new hair dryer? You've had yours for a long time."

"I don't need a hair dryer. How about a new sound system for the TV in our bedroom?"

"We're just leasing that TV, Booth. I know...we can replace the toilet in our bathroom."

"For Christmas...No way…."

"Why not? It's very practical."

"People don't give toilets for Christmas, that's why." Booth pulled the truck into the parking lot. "Listen, Bones, we're here. Let's discuss more Christmas gift ideas later, okay? Jeez…"

"Okay." Brennan smirked. It was her turn to tease her husband, and she was enjoying it. "I'm sure I'll come up with ideas that are a lot more rational than a jet ski."

Booth grimaced slightly at the turn the conversation had taken. "Yeah….I know you will."


	9. Chapter 9 Lost Love

_A/N: I know last week's episode wasn't new, but I find the scene that inspired my little story so moving..._

Booth sighed as he turned over in bed again. It was going to be one of those nights. He turned over to his side, facing away from Bones, and tried to fluff his pillow again, even though he knew it was a waste of time. Breathing deeply, he concentrated on lowering his respiration rate...a relaxation technique he often used to calm himself when he was a sniper. He began to drift off to sleep when he heard the man's cry echo through his mind again…

"She was my Heart!"

Booth's eyes flew open as he recalled the agony behind that statement. He raised himself up to sit on the side of the bed, looking over his shoulder at his wife as she slept peacefully, oblivious to her husband's pain.

"She was my Heart!"

Booth walked into the kitchen and got a beer from the refrigerator. It was really too late to have one, but he wanted something to help him relax as he thought about the previous day's events. He'd sat across the table from the young man, interrogating him about the death of a young woman, accusing the man of her murder. How long would it be until he forgot the look of horror on the young man's face as he realized that his fiancee had made a perilous journey halfway around the world to find him, only to be murdered when they were so few miles apart? She wasn't even supposed to be here. The young man had assumed she was back home. A wave of sorrow washed over both of them as Booth watched the man's face crumple at the news of her death. Then came the gut-wrenching statement….

"She was my Heart!"

The man was in the country illegally, so score one for the good guys, Booth thought sadly...one less illegal alien in the US. Then he remembered something he'd told Sweets many years before:

"Sometimes even when you win, you end up with someone else's pain and screwed up life."

Booth sighed as he walked over to look out the window at the night sky. Usually he loved his job. Even on bad days he could usually convince himself he was doing things for the greater good. But when it was late at night like this it was often hard to keep the pain at bay.

He thought of the young man again. No matter how the case was adjudicated, it seemed like his life was over. How could he ever get over the grief of his loss?

"She was my Heart!"

"Booth? Are you okay?" Bones came up beside him and wrapped her arms around his waist as he put his arm around her shoulders. It wasn't uncommon for her husband to be up at night trying to work through the difficulties of the day.

"Yeah...I guess. I was just thinking about that poor guy today...the victim's fiance. He was also a victim in so many ways….human trafficking, slave labor, and now the love of his life is gone…"

"I know.", Brennan said softly. "I feel badly about it, too. Do you want to talk about it?"

Booth smiled and shook his head. "Maybe later...not tonight."

"Alright. Come on…let's go back to bed..."

"I'll be there in five minutes. Just let me finish my beer."

Booth watched his wife walk back to the bedroom, and grieved for the young man all over again. He knew how that young man felt...he'd come so close to losing the love of his life as well. He looked out the window for a few more minutes, weeping for the man and his dead fiancee, before turning to go back to bed with the beautiful woman who was his wife. He thanked God as he watched her sleeping, wiping away his tears.

She was his Heart.


	10. Chapter 10 Routines

Booth was sprawled out on their king sized bed as he watched his wife brush her teeth. "Do you really think I'm bored with our marriage and our life together? That's just crazy, Bones. No way I'd be bored with you around."

She smiled as she washed her face, glancing over her shoulder as she spoke. "I was concerned that we were getting bogged down by the rather dull routines of our daily lives….that we were in a rut. I wanted to spike things up."

Booth propped himself up with his elbow as he laughed. "I think you mean spice things up, right?" He caught the hint of her grimace in the bathroom mirror. "Look….I like our routines. I told you that this evening, remember? Putting the kids to bed, settling down for the night…" He rubbed the empty spot on the bed next to where he lay. "Snuggling with my beautiful wife…" He twitched his eyebrows and threw in a charm smile for good measure.

Brennan gave her husband a demure smirk as she walked from the bathroom to the bedroom. "I just don't want us to get so focused on our routines that we take each other for granted." She got into bed next to her husband and lay with her head on his shoulder. "I don't want that to be the only thing we talk about."

Booth caressed her gently. "Actually, I look forward to our routine every night, you know, because that means we got to be home with our kids instead of being at some godawful crime scene." He paused as he brushed his lips against the top of her head. Speaking softly, he continued. "When I was young, things could be pretty chaotic at our house. My mom didn't always know where my dad was or when he was coming home, and what shape he'd be in...a lot of times he was drunk and angry, and other times he was almost ready to pass out cold. Sometimes they'd argue so long when he got home at night that we'd miss having dinner. After Mom left, I tried to get a routine down for Jared…but I was just a kid. I had no idea what to do." Booth sniffled quietly. "Finally, when we went to live with Pops and Nana, and we actually had a daily routine, I realized how comfortable it was to have one."

Brennan nodded. "I am usually more comfortable in a situation when I know what to expect on a daily basis."

"I guess that's why I did well in the Army. They have that routine thing down to a science. I don't think we have to be that rigid here at home, but I think our kids are more comfortable when they know how each evening is going to go." His voice trailed off as he grew drowsy.

"Booth….?" Brennan ran her hand slowly across her husband's muscular chest.

"Hmmm?" He was very relaxed…. almost asleep.

"If you're not bored, why do you want a jet ski and a motorcycle?

"What?" His eyes blinked in surprise at his wife's sudden shift of topic. "Because they're fun to have….I think the kids would like riding the jet ski."

"Angela says you may be heading for a midlife crisis. After doing my research it appears that men who are having an age related emotional crisis tend to indulge themselves with expensive and often dangerous motorized toys…." Brennan pulled herself up to look at her husband, "like jet skis and motorcycles, or even sports cars, so they can recapture the thrill of their youth."

"Angela is wrong! I'm not having a midlife crisis!" Booth sat up in bed. "I just daydreaming, you know? Building castles in the air? Indulging my fantasies a bit?"

Brennan was confused. "Why would you build castles in air?"

"It's just an expression." He smiled at his wife as he relived a pleasant memory. "When I lived with Pops and Nana we'd go on picnics or for a drive after church if the weather was nice. There was one spot by a small lake that was their favorite, and they'd plan the house they were gonna build there, right down to the furniture and where to put the Christmas tree. I remember thinking they were nuts...no way they could afford the house they were planning….but they were just having fun...daydreaming together."

"So they planned a house they could never build...and they thought it was fun…."

"Yeah. C'mon, Bones...you know everybody daydreams and has fantasies about big houses or fancy cars or even motorcycles from time to time. That doesn't mean they want those things in real life. It's just fun to pretend."

"I never daydream, Booth….I'm much too engaged in my work." Brennan narrowed her eyes at her smiling husband. He obviously didn't believe her.

"I know all about your daydreams, because you write them down in your books." Booth laughed as he tried to dodge the fingers poking him in the ribs. "I think you have a lot of naughty daydreams, Bones….maybe you're having a midlife crisis, too." He watched her pretend to pout. "I know...we can both get motorcycles. You'd look so good in some skin tight black leather biker pants…. Ow!" He got smacked with a pillow.

"We're not getting motorcycles, Booth. They're far too dangerous. I will consider a jet ski." That was true...Booth was getting a jet ski for Christmas. Brennan grinned slyly at her husband. "I think the black leather biker clothes might be fun to try, however. I suppose we should make an effort to keep our sex life from getting too routine also. What do you think?"

Booth reached over to pull her close. "We can try some black leather to spice things up if you want, but remember…" He kissed her tenderly…."I really love this part of my nightly routine, and I don't need to change a thing…."


	11. Chapter 11 Things We Can't Control

A/N: Set after Doom in the Boom

"Mommy?" Christine spoke up from the back seat of her father's car. "How long will Uncle Jack be in the hospital?"

Brennan glanced at her husband, who was grimacing as he looked out the windshield, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. They had discussed this very scenario last night after Christine was in bed for the night. It would only be a matter of time before their daughter realized that things were difficult for Hodgins and his family right now, and they had decided a simplified version of the truth was best.

"I don't know, Christine. Uncle Jack was hurt very badly, and it will take him a long time to recover. He may not be able to come home for a very long time."

"What's wrong with Uncle Jack? When I asked Michael-Vincent about it when we were at the playground, he just started to cry, and then he ran away from me. I think I made him sad, Mommy, but I didn't mean to. I want to say I'm sorry, but he won't let me." Christine rubbed her eyes, upset with the memory.

"Sweetheart…." Brennan grimaced slightly trying to decide the best way to explain the situation so that Christine could understand. She turned so she could see Christine in the back seat. "Uncle Jack was injured by an explosion when he was at a crime scene. At first we thought he wasn't hurt badly, but pressure from a very large bruise has built up on his spine so messages from his brain can't get to the nerves and muscles in his legs. That means he can't walk right now."

"Will he get better when the bruise goes away?"

Booth looked at his daughter in the rear view mirror. "We hope so, Christine. I think he's going to get better, but it will be a slow process." He glanced at Bones. "Mommy says that even when the bruise goes away, Uncle Jack's muscles in his legs will be weak and it may still be a long time until he can walk again. He's going to need something called physical therapy." He sighed softly. "We're gonna have to be patient, Sweetheart. But the good news is that Uncle Jack's brain still works well, so he can still do all of his sciency stuff when he gets out of the hospital. He can still look through his microscopes and play with his bugs when he wants to….he just can't walk right now."

Brennan coughed slightly and caught her husband's eye, shaking her head slightly. "Uncle Jack is very sad about being hurt right now, Christine, and it may take him awhile until he wants to do science things at work, but Aunt Angela and Michael-Vincent are working hard to cheer him up. They have to concentrate on that right now, but I think Michael-Vincent understands that you didn't mean to hurt his feelings. He was just upset about his daddy being hurt."

The family rode in silence for a few miles until Christine spoke up again. "Daddy….when you got hurt at work last time, it made me scared. I don't like being scared. You might get hurt like Uncle Jack or you might die like Uncle Sweets. I don't think you should go to work any more. Can't you take time off again?"

Booth and his wife exchanged glances. They had also realized their intelligent daughter would be able to put together the facts and arrive at the conclusion that her parents had dangerous jobs. "Sweetheart, I know it's scary when I get hurt.", Booth began. "I want you to know that I always do everything I can to be careful so I can come home every night."

Brennan continued the thought. "Your daddy is very good at his job, Christine. He takes many precautions to make sure he doesn't get injured. Uncle Jack and Agent Aubrey were careful, also, but sometimes people do bad things and people we love get hurt because of those things. However, people get hurt other ways, too, even if they aren't at work. There are accidents or illnesses that hurt them." Brennan paused at she looked at Christine again. "We always have to be careful, but sometimes things happen to us or our friends that we can't control. Daddy is going to look for the men that hurt Uncle Jack, and he needs to go to work to do that, okay? We want them to be arrested, right?"

Christine sniffled as she nodded her head. "I guess so, Mommy. Daddy, do you promise to always be careful?"

"Of course, Christine." Booth nodded. "I don't like to be hurt, and I don't like to be away from you and your brother or from Mommy. I'll always be very careful." The SUV pulled into the parking lot of Christine's school. Brennan got Christine out of her car seat and brought her daughter to Booth for a goodbye kiss. "Okay, no more worrying. Have a good day at school, and we'll see you later, alright? I love you, Sweetheart." They watched as Christine ran up the walk to her school, waving at her as she turned back to wave at them, and then pulled away from the curb.

After a few more miles of silence, Booth turned to his wife. "You alright there, Bones? You're being awfully quiet."

She nodded as she wiped away a tear. "I was just thinking about what Christine said about your job. Booth….do you promise _me_ that you'll always be careful? Remember the rules...you are not allowed to die…."

"Yeah, Bones...I promise...I'll always be careful." He grinned. "I always want to come home to you every night."

Brennan nodded and smiled back They both knew there were many things about their work that were dangerous and beyond their control, but they were the best at controlling the things they could control, and they'd do their best to get justice for their friends.


	12. Chapter 12 Dum Spiro Spero

Brennan wiped the kitchen counter down as she finished cleaning up after dinner. "Angela says that Cam is going to allow Hodgins to come back to work at the lab, starting tomorrow."

"Great! That's good news, isn't it?" Booth put the last plate in the dishwasher and started it. "Can't keep a good man down, I guess."

"I'm not sure it is good news, Booth. Angela is afraid that Hodgins is going to become even more severely injured if he works too much. Cam is worried about that as well. There is a chance that he might become more paralyzed than he is now." Brennan huffed a frustrated sigh as she folded her towel. She leaned against the counter with her arms folded across her chest, annoyed at what she considered to be an impetuous choice on Hodgins' part. "Why can't he just be content to stay at home and rest? Why does he feel like he has to work? It's not like they are concerned about money...his newest invention has provided them with a comfortable living."

"C'mon, Bones...you know why Hodgins wants to go to the lab...you know why, even if you think you don't know why." He smiled as he embraced her. "Think about it…"

Brennan's brow furrowed as she thought about what Booth said. "I don't know what you mean…"

"Okay, let's put it this way. Do you remember telling me several years ago that you had sent a book to your publisher, and your accountant said you'd never have to work again? Why didn't you quit the Jeffersonian and stay home to write more books?"

"Because while I enjoy writing books, I find the work that I do at the Jeffersonian to be quite fulfilling. I enjoy what I do, and I enjoy the feeling of making a difference…" Brennan smiled up at her husband. "And you're saying that Hodgins needs to feel the same thing, right?"

"Exactly. He needs to feel wanted and needed. I remember the first year I worked with him, back when he was a bazillionaire…" Booth laughed as his wife rolled her eyes. "Okay, when he was a multi-millionaire. He told me all he ever really wanted to be was a bug and slime guy. I think that's all he wants now. He just wants to live his life on his own terms…"

"But isn't that unreasonable, Booth? He can't really be the same 'bug and slime guy' he was if he can't walk, and, based on the evidence I've seen in his MRI reports, there is very little chance of him walking again. How can he hope to go back to work full time and be as successful as he was?" Brennan sighed as she brushed away a tear. "It's sad, but I'm not sure it's a reasonable expectation to hope for."

"When I said Hodgins needed something to hope for, I didn't mean it had to be that he might walk again, Bones. He needs a reason to get up everyday. He needs to work to keep his spirits up. He needs something to keep his mind occupied so he doesn't dwell on his problems." Booth saw his wife's doubts in her eyes. "Do you know what _dum spiro spero_ means, Bones?"

"Of course...while I breathe, I hope…meaning in Hodgins' case I suppose, that while he's alive he needs to have work to do to give him a purpose…" Brennan tilted her head at Booth, watching his expression "...a purpose to give him hope, and hope will be the reason he wants to go to work? Is that what you mean?"

"Exactly. And as his friends, we should support him as he works, because we know it gives him a reason to get up in the morning." Booth smiled as he pushed a strand of hair behind Brennan's ear. "Just like your work gives you a purpose...finding the bad guys."

"So when we took off from work for six months, Booth, what did you use to give you purpose and hope? It seems that you're very enthusiastic about your work…that it gives you a reason to live."

"A lot of guys find their identity in their work, and I used to be one of them...but I found a better identity as your husband and as father to our children. I won't lie...I did miss work when I was off, but it isn't my whole reason for living like it used to be…"

"Well, Booth, you may be right about my work giving my life purpose, but you're the reason I get up in the morning…" Brennan smirked as she put her arms around her husband's neck.

"Is that because you can't wait to see my boyishly handsome face everyday?" Booth winked at Brennan as he flashed a dimple at her.

"That's part of it...but I would also attribute it to the amount of gas, synovial and otherwise, that you produce in the morning. When that occurs it makes it difficult for me to sleep, so I just get out of bed…the better to achieve my purpose, I suppose..." Brennan laughed as she dodged getting snapped with the dish towel that Booth was wielding.

Booth pretended to pout as he hung up the dish towel. "I was hoping you got up in the morning because you wanted to spend your days with me..."

"You're right, Booth." Brennan gave her husband a kiss. "Every day you give me hope...I never hoped to have a loving family until I met you. I love you, Booth…"

"I love you, too, Bones…"


	13. Chapter 13 Good Luck

Brennan, wearing her Flyers rally cap, sat next to Booth, cheering as they watched the Flyers at their opening face off, all in an effort to prove that she wasn't a jinx. Of course, it was ridiculous to believe in such things, but she'd learned long ago that Booth could be quite illogical about his sports teams and what made them successful. She knew it was merely a coincidence that the Flyers didn't do well when she watched them on television with Booth, and she wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that they were actually a very inconsistent team. She laughed to herself as she thought of trying to explain that to her husband. She'd also learned that Booth would tolerate no criticism of his beloved hockey team, so she kept her ideas about their level of talent, or lack thereof, to herself.

Watching her husband watch the game was much more entertaining than the game itself. She smiled happily as she noticed him shifting in his seat, leaning from side to side, raising his arms, and groaning in agony at some of the checks or calls the referees made, or cheering loudly as the players skated quickly down the ice to take their shots or the goalie made a save, all presumably to assist the rather uncooperative hockey puck as it tried to enter the net. Eventually, after several minutes, Booth realized he was being watched. At the commercial break in the game, he turned to his wife and grinned.

"Are you even watching the game, Bones? Seems like you're more interested in what I'm doing than the action on the ice." Booth winked at her as he popped some falafel in his mouth before he turned back to the action on the television. "I beginning to feel like a piece of meat again, and you're some sort of predator, getting ready to pounce on me and eat me up."

"I do find the action on the ice interesting, Booth. The physics of hockey are fascinating to me. All of the men on each of the teams are attempting to use Newton's Laws of Physics to move a piece of rubber toward the goal while trying to counteract the lack of friction due to the ice being so smooth, all the while balancing on a skate that provides them very little surface area with which to work. The fact that anyone scores a goal under those circumstances is what makes hockey fun to watch. However…" Brennan arched an eyebrow as she moved closer to her husband's end of the couch, "I enjoy watching you, too. Even under that bulky hockey shirt, I can appreciate the definition of your musculature when you move in anticipation to what's happening during the game. I have to admit...I am considering pouncing on you. I think I would find that very enjoyable right now."

"Huh? Oh yeah...well, I've been working out, you know? Getting ready for my recertification."

Booth swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on the game as his wife moved even closer. He could feel her breathing quicken as she moved to snuggle against him. "So, um...you think hockey is scientific, right? Good...that means I can learn something when I watch a game."

"How much longer in the period, Booth?" Brennan ran her fingers slowly along the captain's 'C' on Booth's jersey and then in slow circles across his chest. "Isn't it almost time for intermission?" She leaned toward him and put her head on his shoulder, batting her eyelashes as she looked up at him innocently. "Are you perhaps ready to take a little break from the game?"

"Two minutes." He gulped as his wife ran her fingers down his chest toward the waistband of his sweatpants. She wrapped the drawstring of the pants playfully around her index finger and then ran her fingertips along the fine line of hair up his abdomen to his navel. "Er...um...Just what did you have in mind for intermission, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know, really." Brennan sighed theatrically. "The problem with going to a hockey game at an arena is that the intermissions are so long and dull…"

Booth was quick to interrupt. "We go get snacks, and they gotta clean the ice...come on, Zamboni races are fun, aren't they?" He put his arm around Brennan and gave her a kiss. "Live games are lots of fun."

"I know they have to scrape the ice. Friction between the players' skates and the ice causes the ice to melt, and then it refreezes in little ridges that can prevent a player from moving quickly down the ice. However, I still think intermissions are dull, except for the kiss cam." Brennan grinned slyly as she ran her finger across Booth's lips. "Here at home, however, we can do so much more than kiss during the intermission, can't we? And we don't have to worry about a camera spying on us." She reached under his shirt to gently run her fingernails across his chest and abdomen. "I think we should try to break the laws of physics during intermission, don't you?", she purred. She began to nibble his ear as she pulled herself onto his lap.

The horn sounded for the end of the period, so Booth turned down the sound on the television, looking confused as he began to understand what Brennan was suggesting. "Yeah, but Bones...intermission is only 18 minutes long...that's kind of rushing things, isn't it? Not very romantic...ummph…" He could feel his body beginning to respond to her passionate kisses. "I mean, you know…" He was breathless as she kissed him and then pulled herself up to straddle him, nipping at his neck and chest. "That's not really enough time, is it? Not if we wanna do things right…"

Brennan gave her husband a sultry smile. "Well, Booth, even if our action on the couch lasts into the second period, it's not really a problem, is it? If anything exciting happens during that period of the game, and you miss it because we are otherwise engaged, there will be a replay of it during the next intermission, and then you can watch the third period to see the end of the game. You said at the beginning of the game getting a kiss was good luck...imagine how much more good luck you can have if we make love…more than enough to counteract any effect my jinxing the Flyers may have…."

Booth smiled as he kissed his wife again. "Oh, trust me...I definitely plan on getting lucky. C'mere…."


	14. Chapter 14 Control

Brennan groaned softly as she punched her pillow once again. It appeared that trying to sleep was going to be a fruitless endeavor tonight. Too many thoughts about the case she had been working on over the previous few days had been intruding into her consciousness as she tried to relax. It seemed like the solution for the case was just beyond her grasp. She couldn't quite see it, and her frustration with the lack of an answer was keeping her awake this evening. Add to that the jolt of fear she'd experienced when she and Booth couldn't find Christine in her bedroom earlier in the evening, and a good night's rest was out of the question. The rain still continued to run down the windows, illuminated from time to time by a distant flash of lightning. Brennan sighed as she sat on the side of her bed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't disturbed her husband as he softly snored on his side of the bed. He had been sleep deprived because of having Christine in their bed the last few evenings as they tried to calm her fears about imaginary monsters. Smiling, Brennan quietly put on her robe and slippers. Even though Christine was still small, she took up quite a bit of room in their bed, and Brennan knew that, in addition to sleep, what Booth missed was having his wife snuggled up next to him as he slept.

The house was quiet except for the soft sounds of the rain. Brennan passed through the family room to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of herbal tea, hoping it would help her sleep. She breathed in the fragrant vapors before taking a sip, willing herself to be calm and rational. There were no monsters in Christine's closet, but there were monsters in the world away from their cozy home. How could she protect Christine from the terrible things that might be waiting outside the front door? Feeling overwhelmed with emotions she couldn't completely understand, much less control, Brennan brushed a tear away and took another sip of tea. She was a strong and intelligent woman who had achieved success in her chosen field through her intellect and strength of will. She knew she could solve this problem. She had to...it was her fault this problem still existed…she had to get to the bottom of this. Brennan was so focused on her thoughts about the case that she jumped with fright as she heard the voice behind her.

"Bones? Did the storm wake you up? It's 2 AM. Come back to bed, Baby…" Booth reached out to rub his wife's shoulders. "I'm sorry I startled you. What's wrong?" He brushed a tear away from her cheek. "Are you still upset about what we found out at the lab?" He gave her a small sad smile as she nodded in agreement. "Listen...these things that happened with the bodies...these things are not your fault, okay? The guy who's doing this...He's a sicko, you know? He's making choices that have nothing to do with you…" Embracing her as she wept, he spoke softly as he rubbed small circles on her back. "We're gonna get the son of a bitch...you know that, right? All of us...the whole team...we're gonna put his sorry ass in prison for the rest of his life…C'mon, Bones...you gotta let it go…you can't let him get into your head like this."

She shook her head as tears ran down her cheeks. "How can I let it go, Booth? If I'd been at the Jeffersonian when the first set of remains came in, I could've prevented the woman's death. We might have caught whoever is responsible when we found the first set of remains…."

"Bones...you were on maternity leave, remember? You needed time to recover from Hank's birth, especially since it was more difficult than when you delivered Christine. You had to get your strength back in order to be able to do any work at the lab. Anyway, the way I understand the timeline, the man's remains were found six months ago, right after Hank was born, and they had been badly scavenged when they were found. It wouldn't have made any difference if you had been at work…"

"That's true, Booth, but I didn't need to take off six months from work after Hank was born. I felt fine very soon after his birth, but I wanted to stay home with him for a longer period of time. If I had gone back to work sooner, I might have been able to find something sooner. That's my job, remember? You've told me many times that I change history by finding a killer before he kills his next victim. Well, this time I failed to do that, and Allison died because of it." Brennan closed her eyes as she leaned against Booth's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. "I've got to do something to find out who is committing these murders so I can prevent another death. I know you understand that. I know how the killer thinks, Booth...more than anyone else who works there, I understand..."

"Bones, look at me." Booth paused until Brennan raised her chin so she could look into his eyes. "Remember when those guys used your book "Red Tape, White Bones" to plan murders of those people they knew? Sully told me afterward that you felt responsible because you wrote those things in your book, but you know it wasn't you who was the guilty party, right? Eventually you realized those guys made their own horrible choices, and that you had nothing to do with it. It's the same way with this guy. He's making choices that have nothing to do with you. You can't control what he does. Even if you could learn everything there is to learn from the remains, we still would need to identify the person committing the crimes, and then find him, right? It's like you told me about Gormogon, remember? This is not gonna be a sprint, it's gonna be a marathon. Taking off that time helped refresh you to handle this case. It was like a sabbathal."

Brennan grinned in spite of her tears. "You mean a sabbatical? Well, I did feel refreshed until I had to figure out where you had disappeared to, Booth." She caressed his face as he shuddered and tried to hide his embarrassment from her. "I was ready to look for you, and I had the strength to do so because I was rested. I understand what you're saying about taking some time off. Unfortunately, that doesn't make me feel much better about our present case."

Booth rolled his eyes as he pulled Brennan back into his embrace. "You just take care of you. The only person you can control is you," He winked broadly at her "….and me, I guess."

"What? I control you?" Brennan's eyes narrowed as she glared at Booth. "That's ridiculous, Booth. You make me sound like some sort of control fink!"

Laughing, Booth shook his head at his wife. "You mean control freak? Oh, you might be a little bit of a control freak…" He grinned as she pretended to scowl. "But that's not what I meant, Bones. You gotta know by now...everything I do, I do so that you're happy. You're always in my thoughts. I always want to do my best to be worthy of you, because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. That's how you control me, okay? So, c'mon. No more sad talk or feeling guilty about things you can't control. We'll start again tomorrow, and we'll get this bastard soon." A rumble of thunder rolled overhead. "See? Even God agrees with me…"

An exasperated sigh escaped from Brennan's lips. "There's a perfectly good scientific explanation for thunder, Booth, and it has nothing to do with a supreme being talking to you...but you're right. We can't do anything about the case at 2:30 in the morning." She reached up to kiss him. "Let's go back to bed."

"Great idea." He kissed her gently and smiled. "I love you…and I'll do everything I can to help you get this guy."

"I know you will, Booth...but I don't want to think about that any more tonight. Do you think you can help take my mind off my problems?" Brennan reached down to pat her husband's gluteus muscles.

"Well, you know, Bones...you're in control of me. You're wish is my command..."


	15. Chapter 15 Advice

"Why can't you just admit it, Bones? You should've listened to my suggestions about how to act and what to say before you went into that hearing. We should've gone over your testimony, you know?" Booth shook his head as he pulled the SUV out of the parking garage. "I told you to act repentant, didn't I? I told you at least pretend that you were asking for forgiveness when you had to talk to the committee about hitting that jackass meninist, but no...of course you couldn't do that. You had to go and say that you weren't sorry at all, and to top it all off, you said the guy deserved it. Just once...just once, maybe, you could take my advice and stay out of trouble…" He rolled his eyes as he looked at his wife, pretending to be annoyed with her. _She always has to do things her way...yep...that's my Bones!_ He winked at her as he continued. "Well, I guess the good news is that I'm in charge of things in our partnership now, and you have to answer to me when it comes to how you act around people. I'm gonna be the one who's gotta be sure you're gonna behave yourself, so you'd better mind your manners when we're out in the field or interviewing a suspect, okay? I know you don't want to be in trouble with your boss...that would be me, by the way..." He laughed to himself, knowing how aggravated she'd be by that statement. _That oughta wind her up good...She's gonna be mad now…._

Brennan pitched her lips into a frown before beginning an angry defense of her position. "I find the committee's handling of this situation to be quite hypocritical, Booth. As I pointed out to them, there have been several instances in the past year of agents injuring people seriously with firearms. I fail to see how my bruising a man's jaw is of comparable severity." She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed out a breath. "They are overreacting to an extreme. I don't need a keeper. I'm perfectly capable of behaving appropriately. You know that. It's ridiculous for me to have to answer to you for my behavior, as if you were some sort of senior partner...absolutely ridiculous." She turned to glare at her husband. "The worst part is that you agree with the committee, don't you? You think I need a handler."

"Aw, c'mon, Bones. That's not fair. You know how much bad press law enforcement's gotten over the last couple of years when it looks like the police have roughed up a suspect, and rightly so, too, but we have to look like we're upholding our standards as a government entity. The Bureau has to be hypervigilant, and they're just trying to be proactive when it comes to dealing with agents and consultants. They have to show the public that they're concerned about treatment of suspects...you know that. I know you wouldn't actually seriously injure a suspect who was in custody, but you can see the committee's point, right?" Booth gave his wife a small charm smile. "I know you don't need a keeper, but sometimes we have to play the politically correct game, you know? We have to agree to things, even if we think they're silly, just so we can move on with our lives. That's all we're doing...we're just playing the game."

"As much as I disagree with the committee's methods, I do see your point, Booth." Brennan sighed as she looked out the passenger window. "I suppose it would've been beneficial for me if I had listened to your suggestions about my testimony. I hope you realized I would never deliberately do anything to jeopardize our partnership or your standing with the FBI."

Booth tried to suppress his grin as he turned slightly toward his wife. "Did I hear you correctly, Bones? Are you admitting that you made a mistake when you slugged that guy?"

Brennan hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I don't think I made a mistake when I struck that horrible man, because I believe that people like him only respond to force. I was concerned that you might strike him, and I wanted to avoid that, because I knew that would definitely have a negative effect on your career. My mistake was underestimating how the FBI would react to what happened when a consultant who is contracted to work with them struck someone who was involved in a case. I'm sorry about that, Booth. I know I put you in an awkward position with the Bureau, and I regret that."

Booth laughed as he reached over to pat Brennan's knee. "Don't worry about it, Bones. It's like I told Aubrey...we've had some awkward moments in our relationship, but we've always managed to work things out. Working through the awkward times together just makes our relationship stronger."

"Why would you discuss our awkward times with Aubrey? That hardly seems like something you two would talk about at work." Brennan's brow furrowed as she studied her husband. "I thought you didn't like to talk about personal things like that with your co-workers."

"Yeah, well, usually I don't talk about that stuff, but he needed some advice about his relationship with your squintern Ms. Warren. He's got it bad for her, and things with her haven't gone as smoothly as he thinks they should. He's kinda worried that he's not handling things with her right."

"I see." Brennan smiled to herself, knowing that Booth was pleased that Aubrey had sought his opinion. "Well, it sounds like you gave him excellent advice. You do that very well, you know."

"What? Giving advice and making suggestions? Oh, I don't know about that…" Booth grinned as he glanced at Brennan. "It's not really good advice if people don't choose to listen, is it?"

"I suppose I do need to improve in that area, Booth. In fact, I'd like to start immediately. Do you remember what you suggested to me the other night? I mean, besides going over my testimony?"

Booth nodded, twitching his eyebrows at her. "Page 187? When we get home?"

Brennan wore a sly smile. "Exactly….and I'd be open to other suggestions as well…."


	16. Chapter 16 Awkward

_MPHS95 suggested that I write about the most recent episode from Aubrey's point of view, so I decided to give it a shot. I added some dialog between Booth and Aubrey, but the dialog between Aubrey and Jessica comes from the episode Last Shot at a Second Chance. Let me know what you think..._

"Just another day in Paradise, huh, Aubrey?" Booth glanced over at the younger man as they walked from the break room to Booth's office. "You feeling okay this morning?"

Aubrey scoffed at Booth's suggestion that something might be bothering him. "Sure, why wouldn't I be? I mean, those remains at the body recovery scene were nasty yesterday, but that comes with the territory, right?"

"Yeah, it does, but I think there's something else up." Booth sat down behind his desk and studied Aubrey carefully. "You only ate two doughnuts this morning on your break. You haven't said a word about the big lead your Cubs have in the Central division, and you haven't bored me to tears with ravings about the Star Wars movie marathon you and Ms. Warren went to over the weekend. That was going to be one of the highlights of your whole entire life, remember? At least that's what you said last week…"

Aubrey shifted in his seat, trying to avoid Booth's concerned gaze. "More of your gut talking to you, right? Really, I'm fine. I mean, you know, the movie marathon was great...even better than I expected. It's a lot of fun to go to the movies with Jessica, anyway, but she's really into Star Wars. She can recite most to the dialog from _The Empire Strikes Back_ word for word, and she even uses different voices for each of the characters." He shrugged a bit, leaning back in his chair. "And then between the films, she does these stretches...splits and back bends and stuff…her yoga instructor says she has open hips, and I guess he's right, because the way she moves when she stretches like that…" Aubrey blushed as he noticed Booth's grin. "I mean, it's not like I was staring at her body, or that I was thinking about stuff other than Star Wars while she was stretching like that, Booth. I'm a gentleman."

"And you're also a red blooded adult male who couldn't help but notice how great her figure looks when she stretches like that. I get it. I know you're preoccupied with things other than work this morning, but we've got to focus on the case right now, okay? I've got a meeting with the Deputy Director this morning, so you and Bones are gonna need to go to the halfway house and talk to the guy who runs the place, alright? We need some more information about Lola and what she was up to…now what's the matter?" Aubrey evidently had something else on his mind.

"We had a moment...you know…as we were leaving the movies." Aubrey stared at Bobblehead Bobbie, ignoring Booth's smirk. "I mean, I told her I thought it was one of those moments...kind of romantic, I guess, so we were gonna kiss each other, but…" He sighed at the memory of what happened. "She ended up hitting my nose with her forehead, so I was bleeding, and then a car sped by and splashed us with dirty water, and then my phone rang and we had a dead body…things were so damn awkward...standing there bleeding and all wet like that. I felt like I was in eighth grade all over again."

"Jesus, Aubrey! Haven't you kissed a girl before?" Booth chuckled as Aubrey squirmed in his seat. "I guess this means you can't concentrate on the case until you get advice from the old guy, right? I've been around the block a couple of times, you know…" Booth leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Bones and me…we've had lots of awkward times over the last ten years or so, but we managed to work through them, and our relationship is great…"

"Yeah, and you're happily married…" Aubrey nodded as he listened to Booth's explanation. "I guess everybody has awkward times in a relationship…"

"If the relationship means anything, they do...because if you don't care enough to be a little embarrassed when you screw up while you're with the girl, then the relationship isn't going anywhere." Booth grinned at Aubrey as he pulled out the case file. "Listen, don't worry about it. It's pretty obvious that Jessica loves you even if you're a lousy kisser. Tell her you just need some practice. I bet she'll be glad to help. Now, can we please get back to the case?"

Oooooooooo

Aubrey was flummoxed. He knew he wanted more from his relationship with Jessica, but how to get there from where they were presently was the difficult part. Every time they worked together, the same thing happened. He'd think about what a pretty color her hair was, or how cute she was when she laughed, or how she pretended she had a light saber as she carried her umbrella with her, and he'd get a warm, fuzzy feeling about her all over again. But what to do? Things were often awkward between them...it was hard to discuss their feelings in passing, or while they were at the movies, and it never seemed like the right time to talk about how things stood between them when they were investigating a murder. It seemed to Aubrey that things were going nowhere fast, and he didn't like it at all.

After agreeing that it probably wasn't appropriate to talk about awkward near misses at kissing and other giant pink elephants while they were searching the victim's bedroom together, they pushed through to close the case. To celebrate, Aubrey took Jessica out for dinner at their favorite Indonesian restaurant. Both the pigeon and the company were excellent, and neither of them wanted the evening to end quickly. Even though it was chilly, they stopped at the organic ice cream parlor around the corner from the Hoover so that each of them could get a double dip ice cream cone.

"Ever notice it's never too cold for ice cream?" Jessica grinned as she licked her cone.

Aubrey, ever the gentleman, slipped out of his overcoat and draped it around her shoulders. "There you go. Better?"

"Yeah! Thanks, Boyfriend!" Jessica gasped slightly as she realized what had slipped out. "I mean friend that's a boy. You know, 'attaboy'..."

 _God….just what we need...another awkward moment._ Aubrey shook off his negative thoughts. _Time to go for it._ "You know, I want to kiss you…." He was relieved when he realized that Jessica wasn't going to run away from him in panic.

She smiled shyly. "Do you think it means something that we haven't yet?"

"No, it's my fault." He grimaced slightly as he shifted from one foot to another. "I mean, I built it up in my head, and now it's like this big _T. rex…" Good job, Slick...impressing her with your science knowledge there…._

"It's scary." Jessica shrugged and nodded, understanding what he meant. "But I'm not in a rush. Are you?"

"Normally, I'm really good at these kind of things", he stammered. _Yeah, just keep telling yourself that...maybe you'll be right one day..._

"You know what that tells me? That what you and I have isn't normal. It's more special than that." Jessica slipped out of Aubrey's overcoat and handed it back to him. "See you tomorrow?"

"Count on it." He grinned at her, watching as she walked away a few steps before turning to give him a dazzling smile. But she was in the street…

….and a car was heading straight for her. "Jessica! Look out!" Aubrey grabbed her arm and pulled her away from danger, and they fell over onto the sidewalk, with her laying on top of him. Suddenly nothing else mattered between them. It may have been awkward for the crowd around them to see the couple kissing each other passionately as they lay sprawled on the sidewalk, but neither one cared about that. All they cared about was each other.

From now on, they could work through the awkward times together.


	17. Chapter 17 Making the Grade

Booth stood in the bathroom, brushing his teeth as he got ready for bed, when he heard Brennan sigh in exasperation as she tossed her anthropology journal aside. _What's going on now?_ , he wondered.

"Booth?" Brennan sank into her pillow as she called out to her husband. "Do you think I overreacted about Oliver's disparagement of Christine's report card?"

"Hmmph?" He stood in the doorway with his toothbrush in his mouth.

"I wonder if I should have just ignored Dr. Wells instead of being concerned about what he said about Christine's grades. Sometimes I still have issues with deciding about how to deal with people who irritate me, so I'd like to learn from this situation."

Rolling his eyes at his reflection in the mirror, Booth rinsed out his toothbrush and walked into the bedroom. "You didn't do anything wrong, Bones, okay? That Dr. Wells is a nasty son of a bitch, and you were right to be angry at him. I don't know why you don't kick his ass to the curb instead of letting him stay at the lab…"

"As upsetting as his behavior can be, he is a brilliant scientist, Booth. Cam and I are hoping that we can assist him in becoming more socially acceptable." Brennan smiled at her husband as he joined her in bed. "In some ways, he reminds me of myself when I was a young woman. I could be quite brusque and obnoxious when I began my career, and I often offended people in my quest for the truth. As I've matured, I've come to realize that I don't want to be thought of as being difficult to work with. I can still find the truth while being polite."

"Bones, when you were a young woman you would've never taken a personal paper from someone's desk without permission, and I can't believe that you would ever make fun of a drawing that someone's child had done. Dr. Wells crossed way over the line when he did those things." Booth's eyes narrowed as he thought of the intern. "I think I'd better have a word with that bastard. Someone needs to set him straight."

"Hodgins is going to talk to him, Booth. He might be somewhat more diplomatic than you would be." She laughed at Booth's annoyance over her statement. "Dr. Wells did have a point about the drawing, however. Christine drew too many fingers on each hand for some reason. Perhaps I need to remind her about being accurate in her drawings."

"Oh, I know why she did that, I think. We were watching cartoons one Saturday morning, and when the road runner starts to run away from the coyote, he's drawn with lots of legs going every which way. She asked me why they did that, and I told her it was to show us how fast he was going. I think she was just trying to show how fast your hands move when you work. That, or she was using her imagination."

"I see. I guess that makes sense." Brennan put her head on her husband's shoulder as she snuggled next to him.

"Or maybe it's like those Hindu gods that have all the arms…" Booth wrapped his arms around his wife to pull her close. "Sometimes I wish I had more arms to hold you closer to me…"

"The Hindu gods are depicted with several arms to show how powerful they are. I don't think Christine knows about that…" Brennan smiled as she ran her hand over Booth's shoulder. "It would be silly to be upset about her getting an E- in Art. Of course, I don't want her to tamper with her report cards, but we can't expect her to make perfect grades for every marking period…"

"We also have to realize that both she and Hank might try to pull a fast one with their report cards from time to time. I know Parker did. That's why I called Mrs. Gallagher...I want our kids' teachers to know that we're involved in their education and that we're going to check on our kids to make sure they're behaving right." He grinned as he brushed Brennan's hair away from her face. "But I don't want to talk about that right now. Talking about the Hindu gods has me thinking about other things."

"Really?" Brennan looked at her husband in surprise. I didn't know you were interested in Hinduism, Booth."

"Well, maybe not Hinduism itself, but I am interested in one of their great contributions to mankind….the Kama Sutra." He twitched his eyebrows at her as he caressed her gently. "I think I'd like to learn more about that…you know, to improve my education…"

"Of course. I completely understand that you might want to learn something new. I'm sure you would get an E+ in your class, too." Brennan kissed her husband as she tenderly rubbed circles on his bare chest. "However, I think tonight we should just use our imagination…."


	18. Chapter 18 Cray-cray

_A/N: this being fan fiction, I extrapolated the off screen relationship between Aubrey and Karen a bit based on what we say in The Fight in the Fixer..._

Booth stirred the sugar into his coffee as he sat at his favorite table in the diner. "So Ms. Delfs asked you out…"

Aubrey swore under his breath. _Dammit, Booth! Why can't we just forget that ever happened?_ "Yeah, what about it?" He studied the menu closely, hoping Booth would get the hint that the topic was off limits.

"Well, you acted surprised, like you didn't know she's interested in you. Seriously, Aubrey, a ten year old boy could've figured out she has the hots for you…especially the way she keeps showing up wherever you are, like invading my office to ask you out, or visiting you at the hospital after that explosion…"

Closing the menu and throwing it on the table, Aubrey sighed in frustration and stared out the diner's picture window. "I was hoping she'd take the hint when I ignored her while she was flirting with me. She's been hinting around about wanting me to ask her out, but I never took the bait. I mean, I didn't want to hurt her feelings, really. I like her...in a friendly sort of way. Karen's cute enough, and she's nice enough, I guess, but she's just not my type. She's too...you know, she's way too cray-cray…"

Chuckling, Booth smiled knowingly at the younger man's discomfort. "And, of course, Jessica isn't cray-cray, right? Even though she has the dialogue from every Star Wars movie memorized and she pretends that her umbrella is a light saber from time to time. Makes perfect sense to me. You gotta pick the kind of cray-cray you're comfortable with..."

"Okay, so that's kind of cray-cray, too, but with Karen, it was creepy cray-cray...it was almost like stalker cray-cray...It's hard to explain, Booth. It's like she knows my plans ahead of time...maybe even before I do. She'll be waiting for me to show up somewhere and then she'll follow me around like a puppy or a baby duck or something like that. She just magically knows where I'm going and what I'm doing, and then she'll invite herself to go along with me, whether I want her company or not." Aubrey shuddered a bit as he took a sip of his coffee. "And she's always trying to psychoanalyze me, telling me what kind of daddy issues she thinks I have, and she's offered to be my therapist. She goes really overboard trying to be overly friendly. It's probably just my imagination, but it makes me too uncomfortable to want to spend much time with her."

"You should've said something about it before I sent you two together to talk to the victim's partner." Booth grimaced slightly as he ate a bite of pie. "Is she sexually harassing you? Because the Bureau's policy on that is clear, and she could be reprimanded…"

"No, it wasn't like that...she's just annoying, okay? Something about her just bugs me. She said understood about me being a relationship with Jessica, but I think it caught her off guard, and she was irritated by that, and maybe even embarrassed since she asked me out in front of you because she thought I was unattached. Look, she and I are both professionals and we did what we were supposed to do on the case, so it's no big deal." Aubrey shrugged as he picked up some french fries. "It doesn't really matter, anyway, Booth, because Karen's being transferred to Kansas City soon."

Booth's expression registered his surprise. "Wait...so all she wanted from you was a one night stand? The way she was chasing after you, I thought she was crazy in love with you...and now you turn her down when she asks you out on a date and she's going to Kansas City? That's kind of sudden, isn't it? Man, Aubrey...you must be a heartbreaker if she has to leave DC just to get over you."

"Ha ha. Very funny, Booth. That's what she said...she was out with some guy last night for a fling before she left town." Aubrey ate in silence for a few minutes, aware that Booth was watching him. Finally he exhaled slowly and spoke quietly. "Karen showed me my father's file last night...the one from the victim's office. She insisted that I look at it, so I did..."

"Well? What did you find out? Anything new?" Booth sat back in his chair, studying his friend.

"There were pictures...of me...in various locations around town...you know, at my apartment, at dinner with Jess, on the way to work…" Aubrey sighed as he picked at his pie with his fork. "My dad was having me watched by our victim, Frank."

"Why? What good would that do? Your dad's in Croatia, right?" Booth stared at Aubrey in confusion.

"Nope." Aubrey shook his head as he looked up at Booth. "He's here in town. He knew Frank several years ago, and he had Frank watching me, although I'm not quite sure why he's doing this now..."

Booth let out a low whistle. "Jesus, Aubrey...okay, look. Do you want some help? Maybe some agents watching your house? I can get the Deputy Director to assign you some guys..."

"Nah...I don't think so...not yet, anyway. This could all be a false alarm. I'll be careful." Aubrey wiped his hands on his napkin and reached for the bill. "Lunch on me today. Ready to go, Booth?"

"Yeah." They walked in silence back to the Hoover, trying to decide what to do next, knowing that things were about to change again, and probably not for the better….


	19. Chapter 19 The Kid's Got Talent

Brennan came strolling through the family room toward the kitchen counter, yawning and stretching. Her husband stood behind the kitchen counter, chewing a spoonful of cereal as he stared at the papers laid out before him. "Booth, what are you doing? It's 2 o'clock in the morning. Are those Froot Loops?" Slightly shocked, she picked up the box of cereal and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I don't believe this. You must've hidden this box somewhere in the kitchen so I wouldn't know you had it. I know I didn't buy this brand...look at the ingredients...artificial colors, sugar, preservatives...I wouldn't want Christine to eat this...Booth, are you listening to me?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, Bones." He tried to look properly contrite as he closed the cereal box. "I was just reading through this story Parker emailed me. He says it's a 'rough draft'..." Booth made air parentheses with his hand and his dripping spoon… "but it seems great to me. I can't tell that there's anything to fix in it. It's an interesting story..." He turned one of the pages so Brennan could read it. "He says it's a novella...whatever the hell that is…"

"A novella is longer than a short story, but shorter than a novel...you know, like Hemingway's _The Old Man and the Sea,_ or Steinbeck's _The Pearl._ " Seeing that Booth was still confused, Brennan tried to think of another example. "Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_ is also considered to be a novella…"

"Oh, that Christmas cartoon movie with Mickey Mouse is it? I love that one." Booth winked as he teased his wife. "I thought you were a scientist. How come you know so much about all this fancy literature stuff?"

"Even scientists read from time to time." She gave him a flirty grin as she picked up the page and glanced over it. "This really is very good, but I imagine he'll want to polish it a bit. One word changed here or there can make the difference between a good story and a great one. That's why writers have editors, you know." Brennan glanced at Booth as he pensively ate another bite of cereal. "What's wrong, Booth?"

Booth shrugged as he stirred the milk and cereal with his spoon, avoiding eye contact with Brennan. "I guess I'm just a little disappointed that Parker didn't tell me himself about this workshop thing he wants to go to at Oxford this summer. Did he think I'd be angry with him? Did he think I wouldn't approve of him being a writer? Because if that's what he wants to do, I'll support him…It wasn't like I was gonna yell at him or hold a grudge...I mean I want to go on a trip with him, but I get that this is a great opportunity for him, and of course, I wouldn't spoil it for him."

"No, it wasn't anything like that, Booth." Brennan reached across the counter and took his hand in hers. "He knows you'd support him in whatever he wanted to do with his education, but he was in a quandary. He only applied for the Oxford workshop because his English instructor strongly encouraged him to do so. Parker didn't think he'd be accepted, so he saw no harm in it. Then when he was accepted, he was thrilled, because he was one of the youngest students accepted, but he was also quite upset, because the timing of the workshop conflicted with the time he was supposed to visit us. He knew how much you've been looking forward to seeing him and to taking this trip with him. He merely called me for advice on how to broach the subject. This is the first time he's encountered a situation like this as a young man, and he wasn't sure how to handle it, because he absolutely knew he didn't want to hurt your feelings. He just asked me to smooth things out a bit for him. That's all."

A grin slowly spread across Booth's face. "He was one of the youngest students accepted? And if his teacher encouraged him, she must think he has a lot of talent. And Oxford's a really good school, right? Wow, that's great, isn't it? Our kid's got talent!"

"I was also impressed that Parker decided to apply for the course even though he thought he had very little chance of being accepted. He's not afraid to try something new, Booth. A lot of young people would've taken the sure, easy path. I think he's very brave, actually. That's part of what it takes to make it as an author. You have to be willing to listen to constructive criticism and you have to be able to accept failure from time to time." Brennan smiled back at her husband. "You might have a best selling author for a son as well as a wife. Would you like that?"

"Well, of course I hope Parker's successful in whatever he chooses to do with his life, but I also want him to be a good person." Booth turned to put his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. "That's what would make me really proud of him." Walking around the kitchen counter, Booth embraced Brennan. "If he grows up to be half as wonderful as you are, I'll be a proud and happy man." He kissed her gently on the lips as he pulled her close to caress her. "Okay, time to go back to bed...what's wrong?"

Wrinkling her nose again, Brennan licked her lips a bit. "You taste like artificial fruit flavors and sugar."

Booth gave her a small charm smile. "I guess I'd better hurry and brush my teeth, because I know exactly how I want to use the sugar high I got from that cereal..."

Brennan giggled as she turned toward their bedroom. "I'll be waiting…"


	20. Chapter 20 Gotcha!

It had been an unusually slow day at the Hoover, so Booth and Aubrey decided to enjoy a leisurely lunch at the diner. After they chatted about the weather and sports, they spent a few minutes in comfortable silence as they enjoyed their meal. Finally Aubrey leaned back in his chair, watching as Booth polished off his slice of apple pie. _He's relaxed...now's the time to begin my investigation._

Booth noticed Aubrey watching him closely. "What? Have I got food stuck in my teeth?"

"Nope, nothing like that." Aubrey narrowed his eyes as he continued to watch Booth. "Okay...spill it."

Shrugging in confusion, Booth gestured with his fork. "What the hell does that even mean? Spill what?" Taking a sip of his coffee, he shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Aubrey…"

"Oh, I think you do...you're the guy who came up with the video of me singing...so spill it. How did you come into possession of that item?"

"Is that what this is about? C'mon, Aubrey...it was all in good, clean fun. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. You sounded great on that tape, even with the puffy hair and little bow tie." Booth chuckled as he watched Aubrey's cheeks turn red. "I can't believe you didn't tell me how much you knew about the a cappella singing stuff. I think it's kinda cute…"

Aubrey didn't seem to agree. "We were good, you know? But I didn't tell you about it for this exact reason...I knew you'd give me grief about it."

"Oh, I know you were good. That's how I got the tape." Seeing Aubrey's confusion, Booth continued. "You know that guy? The lawyer who's the head of the a cappella singing competition committee? I had given him my card when we were at his house, and he called me the other day. He said he thought you looked familiar, and then he remembered seeing you on one of his tapes. I guess they record the competitions, and he has copies of all of them. He said you guys had won the Barbershop division, and he wanted to know if you'd like a copy of the video. I said that you'd want it, but what I didn't say was that I was going to show it to everyone else first before I gave it to you. Hey, I was just doing you a favor…" Laughing at the look on Aubrey's face, Booth returned to his pie. "I guess I got you good, didn't I? But the good news is that you can sing, so maybe next year our division can win the FBI talent contest…"

"Haha. Look, Booth, this information doesn't really need to go beyond this table, okay? I don't want everyone to call me the 'Singing Agent' or something stupid like that…"

"I bet Jessica likes it when you sing to her, doesn't she? You probably sing to romantic stuff to her all the time." Booth smiled broadly, enjoying the digs he was getting in on his friend, until…

"Well, I'm sure you've probably given Dr. B. all sorts of dancing lessons, haven't you? That's why you're so light on your feet...all those dancing lessons you've given to countless little old ladies…" Aubrey chuckled to himself as he watched Booth's ears turn red.

"What the hell are you talking about, Aubrey? Yeah, I worked at a dance school to help pay my way through college…", Booth stammered angrily.

"From what I've heard, you were actually kind of like a taxi dancer, or maybe even a gigolo, and women would line up to take lessons from you…" Aubrey hid his grin as he took a sip of his coffee. "Sounds like you had it sweet…all of them paying you good money for a few spins around the dance floor."

"Yeah, well it's not my fault that older ladies like me so much." Booth glared at Aubrey. "Have you been talking to Bones? I can't believe she told you about that…"

"No, of course she didn't. I just did a little research on the internet. Remember how you said it was for idiots with no life? Well, you'd be surprised what us idiots can find out with just a few mouse clicks...I put your name, the name of the city, and dancing schools into the search engine and there it was...an old newspaper article about that place where you gave lessons, complete with a cheesy picture of you…"

"Jesus, Aubrey! Can't a guy's past stay in the past?" Booth huffed out an exasperated sigh. "I guess the good news is that there's no video of me doing the foxtrot with somebody's grandmother…"

Aubrey laughed. "At least you hope there's no video…but I'm still searching the internet..."


	21. Chapter 21 Help and Healing

"Hiya, Bones. Are you feeling better today? No more coughing, right?" Booth walked into the kitchen as he came home from work and gave her a kiss as she sat at the counter sipping her tea.

"Oh, hello, Booth. Yes, I'm feeling much better and my coughing has almost completely stopped. I think the anise tea has helped me recover rapidly from my illness." Brennan glanced at the kitchen clock. "You're later than what I expected you to be this evening. Is everything alright?"

"Fine. Things are fine." Booth wrinkled his nose at Brennan's tea cup, hoping to change the subject. "I still think that stuff smells nasty. Are you sure it wasn't Angela's healer that made you feel better? He's not a bad looking guy…and he seemed really interesting...and the massage he gave you looked relaxing..." Booth grinned as he gently teased his wife.

"Of course it wasn't the healer. That's simply ridiculous!" Brennan grimaced indignantly as she took another sip of her tea. "Aren't you going to tell me why you're late this evening? Did you have to go to more hearings on Walker's death?"

"Nah...I'm not sure what spin they're gonna put on that whole deal, but I think they're gonna try to keep me and Aubrey out of it. I'd hate to sort out that mess. I mean, Walker was a hero for saving the President's life, but he also killed another member of the Secret Service because the guy knew he was having health issues and wanted to take him off the team. In his own mind, Walker was the only man who could do the job right, and he was too dedicated to that job to risk giving it to anyone else." Booth walked over to the refrigerator and got a beer. Opening it, he took a sip as he decided what else to tell his very inquisitive wife. _I'll never have a moment's peace...might as well tell her…"_ I was late because I went to see Travis Bozwell this afternoon."

"You mean Travis from the gun club? The man who was shooting the leaves off the trees? Whatever for?" Brennan's brows knit as she tried to understand why Booth had made the long trip out to the Cavenaugh Gun Club.

Booth shrugged as he took another sip of his beer. "I'm kinda worried about him, because I kinda think maybe he has PTSD. When we questioned him, it seemed to me that he was really down on himself, you know? He seemed hopeless, like maybe he felt like he didn't have anything to live for, so I went to see how he was doing."

"I see." Brennan smiled to herself. _Just like Booth, isn't it? Always taking care of someone..._ "So how is he doing? He seems to have exceptional hand/eye coordination, and he's an excellent shot. He must have done well as a soldier."

"I found out that he'd won a sharpshooter's medal while he was in the Army. He actually did pretty well for a while when he was serving in Afghanistan, but a couple of his buddies…" Booth sighed as he took another sip of beer. "He said they were driving down the street in this dusty little town, minding their own business while they were on patrol, when they ran over an IED. Travis got thrown clear somehow, but the other two guys with him were killed. One of them had been married for just a few months, and the other one had three little kids. So now he's got survivor's' guilt to deal with, and I guess the blast messed up his hearing, too. He said he's constantly got headaches and ringing in his ears…"

"Booth, that's so sad...poor Travis." Brennan shook her head as she thought about the situation. "I wonder if he's told anyone at the VA about the ringing in his ears. It could be that he suffered a serious concussion from the explosion and he could still be experiencing health issues because of it."

"Well, part of the problem is that he looks fine, like he's completely healthy. You can't look at him and tell that there's anything wrong with him. I mean, you've got guys at Walter Reed that are missing limbs, or who were blinded, so it makes Travis feel like his problem is really minor compared to what everyone else is dealing with. He's trying to suck it up…"

"But he's entitled to veterans' benefits, Booth...he should be evaluated by a neurosurgeon…"

"You're right, Bones, but for some guys, when they go to the VA it reminds them of being deployed all over again. Travis doesn't feel very comfortable there, so I told him about some other places he could go to get help...where he can get a check up and maybe talk to someone about what he's still carrying around emotionally…" Booth rinsed out his beer bottle and put it in the recycling. "Things are really rough for him now. He doesn't have any family left, and his girlfriend left him because she thought he's been acting weird, I guess. He's a licensed electrician, but he's having a hard time keeping a job...he gets nervous or irritable easily and he has a hard time focusing on what he's supposed to be working on. I just hope he doesn't fall through the cracks of the system. I don't want him to become another vet who commits suicide because they can't adapt to being home after their deployment."

Brennan rose from her barstool and embraced her husband. "You're such a good man, Booth. Travis is lucky to have someone like you to take an interest in him. I hope he listens to your advice."

"We're gonna keep in touch. I gave him my card in case he wants to talk things over, and I'm gonna check up on him from time to time to make sure he stays of trouble, but when you get right down to it, he's going to have to take the steps to get the help he needs. I'm just trying to encourage him." Smiling, Booth gave Brennan another kiss. "Okay, time for laughter therapy to help you get over your crud. Did you decide what movie you want to watch? The Stooges, right?"

"Actually, Booth…" Brennan smiled slyly. "I'd rather see your impression of the Stooges. I find that to be much more entertaining than the movies. What other impressions do you do? Can you do Chris Hemsworth as well? I think that would improve my health tremendously."

Laughing, Booth pulled his wife close. "Whatever I do, you can bet it'll make a lasting impression on you…"

Brennan purred as she caressed her husband's cheek. "That was exactly what I wanted to hear. I'm beginning to feel better already..."


	22. Chapter 22 Choices

After a busy evening of buying and selling cars in her parents' family room, Christine Booth had gone to bed a happy little girl. Booth was having fun making car sounds as his shiny new sports car raced over the arms and cushions of the sofa when Brennan brought him a glass of Scotch and settled next to him with her goblet of red wine.

"Thanks, Bones. I guess I'd better park the car for the night. Don't wanna drink and drive…" He smirked as he placed the car on the table next to the sofa. Reaching over to put his arm around his wife, he nodded happily. "Actually, Christine did a pretty good job trying to sell me that car. She's got a good memory, you know? She'd be able to tell a prospective customer all sorts of things about the specs of the car they were interested in...miles per gallon, engine size, horsepower...stuff like that. Plus she's got a good personality, and she's good with numbers, too. She might make a lot of money on commissions."

"She was having fun, wasn't she?" Brennan stared into her wine glass and sighed. "Booth, do you think it's wrong that I was somewhat disappointed to learn that Christine wants to sell cars for her occupation? I mean, she's brilliant...there are so many things she could do to change the world, even if she didn't want to be a forensic anthropologist…she could teach at a university, or do research, or go into medicine..."

"Smart people can do really well at selling cars, you know?" Chuckling at his wife, Booth shook his head. "Christine is six, Bones. She's gonna change her mind probably a million times about what she wants to do when she grows up before she actually figures out what she wants her job to be as an adult…"

"Why would she change her mind so often? I've always known what I wanted to do, ever since I was a little girl, Booth. I knew I wanted to be an anthropologist, and I never wavered from that idea. I think that focus is what makes me successful."

"I know, Bones, but the majority of the people in the world are not nearly as focused as you are. Look, when I was about five, I wanted to drive a cement truck, because I liked the way the thing spins on the back of the truck to keep the concrete from setting. Then I wanted to be an astronaut because of that Saturday morning cartoon show...remember? We saw that picture of the show's host and his puppets when we were in Roswell looking for aliens. And I wanted to be a hockey star, and a cowboy, and GI Joe, and Superman...That's what I told the interviewer for that documentary they made about the lab, you know? It took me a while to find my calling, but I finally did when I went into law enforcement, and now I'm happy that I made that choice. When Christine is older, she may decide she wants to be a teacher, or an anthropologist,..." Booth winked at Brennan. "Or maybe even a nun, but she'll find something to do that makes her happy."

"What? A nun? I think I would try to dissuade her from that!" Brennan elbowed her husband in the ribs playfully as she realized he might be teasing her just a bit. "Although, being a nun might be more reputable than being a car salesperson." Brennan grimaced slightly as she sipped her wine. "I guess I could become accepting of her choosing either of those professions if it would make her happy."

"Yeah, I think eventually you'll be okay with whatever she chooses. Listen, our kids, they all have different talents and abilities. I mean Parker may want to be a writer when he gets out of school. Christine likes being around people, and she really does like science, so she'll probably find something that combines those things when she's an adult. And who knows about Hank? His skills right now seem to be limited to eating, sleeping, and pooping. Anyway, we just gotta make sure they all do their best in school so they can have a lot of opportunities to choose from, and then we have to support them when they actually do choose, right?"

Brennan smiled as she snuggled against her husband. "You are a very wise man, Booth, and it seems to me that you've actually managed to do a lot of the things you wanted to do as a child. Maybe not the cement truck driver, but you are the best player on your hockey team. You got to be a cowboy on an undercover case, and you served in the Army, so you were a real life GI Joe." She reached up to kiss his cheek. "And, if you're nice, I'll let you prove to me once again that you're Superman when we retire for the evening..."

Booth grinned at his wife as he pulled her close. "Anything you want, Wonder Woman…"


	23. Chapter 23 So Many Books

It had been two weeks since Brennan had decided that she and Booth needed to declutter their home. "Two weeks!", she said to herself as she looked around the family room, "and nothing has been accomplished except scattering our belongings throughout our house!" Puffing out a sigh of frustration, she looked again into the box that Booth had brought out of his man cave.

"What?" Booth eyed his wife suspiciously. "See...I'm gonna get rid of some stuff…" He walked over and moved around some of the objects stacked in the box. "This VCR is broken, and here's a couple of old pairs of running shoes. Somebody gave me this Pittsburgh Pirates hat...wrong team, you know? I've recycled a lot of my old magazines, and I boxed up all of my old National Geographics because Christine's teacher said she could use them for projects at school. It may not look like it now, but I'm making some progress."

Brennan tried not to be annoyed as she watched Booth proudly crow about how his cleaning and decluttering was going. "You've done well, Booth, but I wonder why you need four hockey sticks and all those autographed hockey pucks…"

"Hey...those are signed memorabilia, and they're worth something, okay? You know, one day we might be able to pay for our kids' college education if we sell those things for a lot of money…"

"The key phrase being 'if we sell them', Booth." Brennan scoffed as she dug through his box of cast offs. "I can't believe you'd ever sell any of those things. It would be much more prudent of us to just add to their already existing college savings accounts."

"Well, I'm gonna arrange things so that all my sports stuff fits in my man cave. If my stuff doesn't all fit, I'm gonna get rid of some of it, okay? I'll donate it, or find some collector online who wants to buy it. There's a big market for sports memorabilia. I bet Angela could help me." Booth crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at his wife. "What are you going to do with all of your books? They won't all fit in your office…"

"I know…" Brennan sadly looked around the family room at the stacks of books that lay everywhere. "I'm going to start culling some books from my collection today…"

Oooooooooo

Brennan had often teased Booth about his attachment to his graphic tee shirts, wild ties, and crazy socks. His collections of those clothing items were extensive, but they still took up less space in the house than her books. She paused to look at the stacks of books she'd made as she started to go through her collection, and she realized she wasn't getting very far in her sorting. She'd open a book to the first chapter, and after reading the first few lines she'd be transported to the past, remembering where she was when she acquired the book, or when she'd first used it, or who had given it to her and why. Finally she understood Booth's sentiments about his tee shirts and ties. It wasn't about the object itself...it was about the memories attached to the object.

However, Brennan was supremely rational person and she knew what had to be done. After much angst, she managed to fill two large boxes with books that she could part with. Placing them by the front door, she planned on taking them to the local Goodwill donation center, but Booth offered to do so, saying that the donation center was right on his way to the gym. Deciding it would be best to make a clean break, she agreed, hoping her husband hadn't seen the tears that filled her eyes as he carried her beloved books out to the SUV.

Oooooooooo

Two more weeks past, and Brennan went through more of her books, boxing some more books up to donate, and allowing Booth to drop them off for her. It was difficult not to buy more books to fill the empty shelves in the family room, but she had resolved to be strong. With two growing children they needed the shelf space for toys and games, and eventually Brennan adjusted to having fewer books.

Then one day she got a text from her husband. _Meet me at 1104 Boston Avenue at 4:00 pm today. Don't ask why...just be there._

Grumbling slightly, Brennan checked her watch. It was 3:30...a little early to leave work, but she'd put in a lot of hours recently and knew that Cam wouldn't mind. _What is that man up to? He knows I hate surprises..._ However, he wasn't answering his phone, so she had to go find out for herself.

1104 Boston Avenue was the address of a large multi-level storage building. "Booth, what are we doing here? Do we have a case?" Brennan hands were on her hips as she watched her husband's reaction.

He shrugged his shoulders and winked at her. "C'mon. I want to show you something." They got on an elevator and rode up to the fifth floor. Exiting, they walked down a carpeted hallway that was lined with doors on either side of the hall.

"Wait a minute." Brennan stopped and turned to Booth. "I remember this place. This is where that anthropologist kept those bones of the child that had both Neanderthal and Cro Magnon characteristics. It's an excellent storage facility."

"Is it really? Hmm." Booth grinned as he walked down to a unit and produced a key. "Well lit, climate controlled, electricity...no natural light, but we can't have everything." Unlocking the door, he gestured for his wife to step inside.

"Oh...Booth…" Brennan stood in amazement as she looked around the storage unit. Floor to ceiling shelves lined the walls, and each shelving unit was filled with the books that she thought she had donated. There was a small upholstered arm chair and foot stool in the center of the room with a small table that held a lamp. "My books! These are my books! But how did you...you didn't donate them?"

"Nah..." Booth smiled broadly as he shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door frame. "When I saw how upset you were about giving up your books, I decided to see if there was another way to store them, and then I remembered this place. So you can come here whenever you want...it's open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...and you can read or do research with them. Maybe you can swap some out, you know? Bring some from the unit home for awhile and some from home here for awhile, and they'll seem like new books. I wasn't sure how you wanted them arranged, so I just did alphabetical by title...I figured you'd have fun arranging them how you wanted them…"

"Booth...this is wonderful...amazing. I can't believe you did all this work just for me…" Brennan embraced her husband as she looked around the storage unit again. "I love you, Booth. I love that you're so considerate of me, and that you use your imagination to think of ways to please me. Thank you…"

"I'm glad you're happy." Booth pulled Brennan close and gave her a kiss. Then he plopped down into the armchair, watching her happily as she checked on how he had arranged her books. "Speaking of imagination...could you show me how those fertility stones work later this evening? I'm having a hard time picturing it in my mind…"

"They aren't an aphrodisiac, Booth...they're supposed to make a woman more fertile. Now the statue in the bedroom? The one with the large sex organ? That's supposed to be an aid to sexual prowess…" They locked up the storage unit and strolled down the hall to the elevator.

"C'mon...I think we're past that now, aren't we? I shouldn't have to prove that to you any more. We can just get rid of that thing. It's UGLY." Booth gave Brennan a disapproving look as they waited for the elevator.

"Oh, yes, you do...you need to prove your sexual prowess to me at least three times this evening. By the way, Booth…you realize that I didn't donate my copy of the _Joy of Sex,_ right? It's still sitting in the top drawer of my nightstand."

Chuckling as they got into the elevator, Booth pushed the down button. "I think that's one book we can always make room for in our house…."


	24. Chapter 24 Two Million Dollars

"So Marcus Eldridge is getting two million dollars for writing an expose' on their expedition? I don't understand why you're annoyed, Bones. You get a lot more money than that for advances on your books." Booth took a pull off his beer bottle and smiled at this wife. "Of course, I guess I could write an expose' about you...maybe I could make my own money for a backyard ice rink."

"It's not the money, Booth. I know my books do well, and we're quite comfortable, financially. The point is that Eldridge is a fraud. His research methods are crude and sloppy, and by choosing to describe the relationships between the team members on the expedition when Henry Charles was killed, he's leaving science completely behind and entering the realm of sensationalism." Brennan scowled slightly as she sipped her wine. "He's doing a disservice to scientists everywhere. People think science is boring because it takes time to get answers if we use the proper methods, so Eldridge feels the need to spice it up with emotional drivel and ridiculous stories. You said it yourself...the cannibalism angle was the reason so many people bought his last book."

"I see. So you're taking this stand only on principle." Booth grinned as he gently teased Brennan. "It's not the money. Okay, I get it…but I bet a lot of people would read the expose' I could write about you." He smiled to himself as he turned to get another bottle of beer. He figured that would set her off...this might be fun…

"I'm afraid your book will be quite boring, Booth. I have no secrets to hide…" Brennan narrowed her eyes as she noticed his grin. "What secrets do you mean?"

"No skeletons in your closet, huh?" Booth laughed as Brennan rolled her eyes at his joke. "Well, let's see...you have an irrational fear of bears…"

"Being afraid of bears is quite rational. They are very large, ferocious carnivores that should be avoided. I have no idea why people would turn such creatures into toys…" Brennan shook her head at the thought of small children playing with bears.

"What else...you wanted to be a dancer but you have a problem with your iliac thingy…" Booth tilted his head to one side. "You like to make out with your husband in dark closets…"

"That's true, Booth, but I think it would only be expose' worthy if I wanted to make out with someone else's husband in a dark closet." Brennan smirked as she watched her husband go through his mental list. "Besides, you have secrets, too...although I don't suppose your intense dislike of clowns is a secret any more…"

"Well, not after you've told practically everyone you know…" Grimacing, Booth took a sip of his beer. "I guess I could write about all your tickle spots…but I'm not sure I want to share that information with the world…"

"Actually, Booth, there's a very good reason you shouldn't write an expose' about me...I mean besides the fact that I don't have any interesting secrets." Brennan smiled demurely as she ran her fingers along the rim of her wine glass. "You told me several years ago that what's ours is ours. You may know several secrets about me, but if those things are secrets I've shared with you, they should stay just between us, right? You really shouldn't share them with the world."

"I guess you've got me there." Booth laughed as he poured another glass of wine for Brennan. "But, jeez, Bones...two million dollars...we could have so much fun with that. I mean even after taxes and putting money in the kids' college funds, it's still a lot of money…"

"You didn't seem to think that solar panels were fun the last time I suggested them, Booth. I admit, they mostly serve a practical purpose…solar panels aren't a lot of fun.

"Yeah, but here's what I've been thinking. We put those solar panels on the roof, right? So then we start to make electricity with the sun, and we can use some of that electricity to run the freezers that cool down my backyard ice rink. That way we could both get what we wanted."

Brennan chuckled at Booth's logic. "The point is to use less energy in our house, Booth. We can use fewer resources in our house, so we'll save money. Yes, I know...the ice rink is outside." She looked at him thoughtfully. "However, it won't take two million dollars to install solar panels on the house. Maybe we can do that with my next advance, and then we can do something fun with the leftover money...like take a trip. We can go to Alaska…"

"Nope...you just want to go to Alaska so you can visit the excavation site Henry Charles as working on, and that's no place for normal people to take a vacation. Maybe we can go to Canada and visit all the NHL rinks." Booth winked at his wife as he took another drink of his beer. "That would be lots of fun."

Brennan rolled her eyes at his suggestion. "I'm sure Christine wouldn't be interested in looking at ice rinks, although visiting Canada would be nice. Maybe we could go to Quebec and Montreal…"

"Those places are way too French, Bones. Look, if we're gonna spend some money on something, an ice rink makes a lot more sense. Then I wouldn't have to be gone from home so much. I could practice right in the backyard.''

"Perhaps it would be even more practical to just buy an ice skating facility…" Brennan reached over and put her hand over Booth's. "Although I do like the idea of you being home more often." She giggled as she gave her husband a coy smile. "I suppose, if you really wanted to sell books, you could write about how we spend our evenings after the children have gone to bed…"

"Nope...that's not happening." Booth twitched his eyebrows at Brennan and grinned. "Like you said, Bones...what's ours is ours, and I like it that way. Some secrets are better left untold."


	25. Chapter 25 Only Temporary

"I really don't get it." Special Agent Aubrey pulled the SUV out of the parking lot and onto the busy street in front of the Hoover. "So you had to go to the eye doctor and now you have to wear glasses…"

"Temporarily…" growled Booth. "The doctor says the glasses are only temporary!"

"Whatever. So you have to wear glasses 'temporarily'. What's the big deal, Booth? Lots of guys your age wear glasses." Aubrey glanced at Booth and shook his head. "I mean, it happens…"

"Just what do you mean by 'guys my age'? How old do you think I am? I'm not ready to retire, you know...I've got a lot of good years left in me. See, that's part of the problem, Aubrey. If a guy wears glasses, people automatically assume they're old…"

"So, you're what, forty seven? That's not old, Booth…"

"I'm only forty five. How the hell did you arrive at forty seven? Jesus, Aubrey…." Booth clenched his jaw as the looked out the window of the SUV. "You make it sound like I'm practically fifty. Pretty soon you're gonna have me in a nursing home. That's the problem with glasses. They make a guy look old."

Aubrey rolled his eyes at Booth's tirade. "That's crazy, Booth. I mean, I wear glasses from time to time, and I don't think they make me look old."

"Really? So why aren't you wearing your glasses now? Hmm? Because you don't like the way you look in them right? Do they make you feel dorky? That's what you said about my glasses…" Booth crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Aubrey. "Dorky, my ass. Bones likes them…even if they do make me look old..."

"Well, normally, I wear contact lenses because I get better peripheral vision from them, but I wear my glasses from time to time." Aubrey smiled slyly as he turned the SUV onto a different street. "Jess says my glasses make me look like Clark Kent, and so when I take them off, I become Superman…."

"I really do not need to know that, Aubrey." Booth pushed his glasses up on his nose. "What you do with your girlfriend and your glasses on your own time is your business…" Pinching his lips together, Booth shifted in his seat. "Okay, here's the deal. I didn't want to get my eyes checked because I knew Bones was right. It seems like she's always right, you know? I mean, she's a genius, and I'm not, and so she knows a lot of stuff...and I'd like it if just one time she tells me I need to do something and then she's wrong."

Aubrey laughed out loud at that statement. "Did you ever think your wife's always right because she never tells you to do something unless she's sure you need to do it? That's why she's always right." Smirking as he checked the rearview mirror, Aubrey continued. "So this whole thing about not wanting to go to the eye doctor and not wanting to wear glasses isn't about being dorky or looking old. It's because you don't want to hear Dr. B. say that she told you so."

"Is that what she said when you told her that I wasn't really at the French Embassy? I can't believe you spilled your guts like that, Aubrey. Seriously…"

"Okay, okay...sorry. She saw right through me. I didn't have a chance to put up my defenses." Aubrey tapped on the steering wheel as they waited out the traffic light. "So how long is temporary for your glasses, Booth?"

"The doctor said I have to wear them a couple of days, and then I have to go back for another checkup. He said this thing with my eyes may flare up from time to time, and when it does, I'm supposed to go back to the glasses. He's not sure what causes it, but he thinks it'll go away eventually…I hope so."

"So the glasses are temporary until you find out you need reading glasses, right?" Aubrey chuckled as he saw Booth's snarl. "It's no big deal, Booth. You'll still be able to shoot straight even if you can't read the fine print any more...and then comes the bifocals…"

"Yeah...thanks a lot, Aubrey…" Booth shook his head in exasperation. "You're a big help, you know that? A big help…"


	26. Chapter 26 Sexy Specs

Brennan lay sprawled out on her king sized bed, watching her husband with amusement as he preened for the mirror. He'd just finished brushing his teeth, grinning at himself in the mirror to check his work, and then he reached up to straighten his glasses. Seeing that his wife was studying him intently, he quirked an eyebrow at her. "So do you like what you see, Bones?"

"Definitely." She rose from the bed and walked into the bathroom, putting her arms around her husband's waist and leaning her head against his broad back. "You are a very attractive man, Booth, with or without glasses. Surely you must realize that…"

"Yeah, well, when I was a younger guy, I knew that sometimes women would check me out, so I figured I must look okay…" He shrugged a shoulder at his reflection, hoping he didn't sound too conceited. "I mean, I guess I wasn't ever movie star material…and now that I'm older, it doesn't happen as much..."

"Your facial features are quite symmetrical, and your physique is most impressive. I think that qualifies you as movie star material, Booth. I'm sure any intelligent heterosexual woman would find you to be very attractive. However, since you're no longer available, those women are in for a grave disappointment. I think perhaps once women notice your wedding band, they still look at you with appreciation, but they're not as overt in their admiration of your appearance since they know you're beyond their reach. I don't think it has anything to do with your age."

"I see. I suppose that makes sense." Booth smiled as he turned around to embrace Brennan. "Well, anyway, I'm the lucky one. I've got you, right?" He kissed her gently. "Now tell me the truth.", he laughed as he reached up to adjust his glasses. "You don't really think these glasses are all that sexy, do you? You were just saying that to get me in bed with you, right? Well, I guess it worked. It's a good thing I got the high impact frames since we got a little wild there for a while…"

Licking her lips as she ran her hands over Booth's shoulders and arms, Brennan wore a sly grin. "I really do like those glasses…they're very enticing. I think I'd like to go back to bed now, and I want you to come with me…" She took his hand and led him back to their bed. Booth reached up to remove his glasses. "Please leave your glasses on…"

"You know, I never figured that you'd have a glasses fetish…" Booth chuckled as he embraced his wife and pulled her close.

"It's not a fetish, really. I just think they look good on you, that's all." Brennan ran her finger along the upper edge of the frame enclosing the lenses. "Many people use objects to heighten their sexual pleasure. I just happen to prefer eyewear."

Booth smirked at Brennan's explanation. "Yeah, right. It sounds like a fetish to me. Maybe it's a squint fetish instead. You like it when I look like a squint, right?" He chuckled as she playfully slapped his arm. "But here's the big question. What's gonna happen when I don't need to use these specs any more, huh? Do I need to get some of those reading glasses to wear? You know, like you can get at the drugstore? Maybe I can get different colors to match my mood. What d'ya think? Maybe some red frames for Valentine's Day, and thick black ones for when I'm feeling squinty…" He was interrupted by his wife as she kissed him.

"I think you need to stop worrying about that, Booth. If you don't have to wear glasses any more, I'm sure I can find other things to enhance our sexual pleasure, although we may have to experiment to find out what those things are...at least until you need to wear bifocals."

Booth grimaced slightly as he shook his head. "Bifocals? No way. It'll be a long time 'til I need bifocals. Hey, maybe you'll have to start wearing glasses, too, and we can both have a glasses fetish." He tapped his frames as he grinned at her. "For what I have in mind, you're gonna need those high impact plastic frames, too."

Brennan giggled as she reached over to turn off the lamp on her nightstand. "I can't wait…"


	27. Chapter 27 Missing

Booth sat at his office desk, watching as the raindrops slowly ran down the building's windows, trying unsuccessfully to project a calm and composed attitude for the benefit of the agents in the bullpen. His restless mind was racing through all the facts that might tie his latest murder case to his wife's disappearance, along with all the awful possibilities that could arise from those facts. He turned to his keyboard and once again brought up the email that Cam had forwarded to him...the email that Bones had supposedly sent to all of them. It had been addressed to Cam, Hodgins, Angela, and Wendell. No one seemed to pay any attention to the fact Booth and Aubrey weren't on the address line, or if they did, they probably assumed that the agents had already heard about the evening's plans from Brennan. He shook his head as he read the message again.

 _Good news! Booth has a man in custody who has confessed to being the Puppet Master! I believe that we all deserve a reward for our many hours of hard work on this case! Let's meet at the Founding Fathers this evening at seven to celebrate. Drinks and dinner on me! Brennan._

Booth was no computer forensics expert, but he was surprised that nobody thought this email was odd. To him it was so obvious. This wasn't how Bones normally wrote her emails. Her email signature always had the title Doctor before her full name...even on the messages she sent to him to remind him to pick up milk on the way home. Of course, it was also unusual for her to suggest a celebration like this after a case, but the members of her team were exhausted, and so it seemed they hadn't really stopped to think about that. They were just happy to get good news about this terrible case for a change. Now everyone felt guilty, even though this horrible situation was not their fault. Someone else had set this trap. Someone else had counted on the team members giving the message a cursory reading without considering whether or not it was real. Everybody was ready to relax and have fun when they got the good news, so they were willing to take the message at its face value, until they called Bones to find out why she was running late to her own party. Panic had set in among them when she told them she hadn't sent the email that had resulted in her being left alone at the lab, and that the person who'd actually sent it was there at the lab with her at that time.

Sirens were blaring as Booth and Aubrey raced to the lab after Cam's frantic call, only to find the place completely deserted. The scene there was surreal. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. The skeleton was still laid out on the exam table in anatomical order. All the lights on the room were still on. It was like Bones had just stepped away from the table for a minute. There were no signs of a struggle, but her purse and phone were still in her office, so she hadn't planned to leave with whoever it was that had joined her in the room. What was it Cam had said? Bones sounded surprised to see the person who had arrived, but not alarmed…like it was perfectly normal for this person to be there. Then the line had gone dead.

And now it seemed that Zack was gone, too. Booth inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He and Bones had been to see Zack many times at the asylum where he'd been institutionalized. Zack seemed to love Bones as much as he could love anybody. Maybe if Zack and Bones were together, she'd be safe…maybe…maybe Zack would take care of her...if he wasn't completely off his rocker...

Booth knew he couldn't allow himself to dwell on that idea. It did no good to think like that. He wiped his eyes as he stared out into the night, praying again for his wife's safe return and for the wisdom to explain her disappearance to his daughter and to Max. It was the not knowing about the outcome that was eating at him. What could he say? How could he explain to his family what had happened to Bones? _I'm supposed to protect my wife, but I let her out of my sight so she could go back to the lab to prove that goddamn doctor is innocent. She was so angry with me, and I let her go so she could look at those goddamn bones again, hoping it would help her calm down. Jesus...I should've stopped her. It seems like someone wanted us separated from each other, just like the victim and her husband were...they were separated…_

Booth glanced at the time on his computer and swore loudly as he rubbed his face with the palm of his hand. If they didn't come up with anything new within the next eight to ten hours, they'd have to release Dr. Faulk from custody. The twenty four hour period that they could hold him without charges would be up. Right now they didn't have enough evidence to charge him with Ms. Goodman's murder or Bones' disappearance, or anything else for that matter, and the fact that Booth's gut was on red alert about the bastard wasn't going to do them any good when it came to keeping the guy in jail. They needed something else, or the psychologist would slip through their fingers, and possibly take Bones with him. _I can't let Dr. Faulk just walk away. I gotta figure out how to hold him in custody until we know something more…we need some hard evidence..._

Booth walked over to the window and watched the rain for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do. Finally he called Aubrey. "Hey, it's me. Were you able to get the warrant to search Dr. Faulk's office? Good. Listen, I know it's late, but could you go over there with me tonight? I can't just sit around and wait, you know? I'm going crazy here. I gotta do something. Yeah. Thanks, Aubrey. I'll see you in ten minutes."

Booth hung up his phone, and walked around his desk to grab his jacket and shut down his computer. He paused one more time to look out the window as he sent up one desperate question to Heaven.

 _Where are you, Bones?_


	28. Chapter 28 Wrestling

_A/N: This is from the Hope in the Horror. I hate loose threads in stories. I was chatting with my friend MoreBonesPlease about how Dr. Roshon got Brennan's clothes, and we brainstormed an idea for this little story. It's not as dark as the episode, but I hope you enjoy it. Laura._

* * *

"Well, Bones, this is great, isn't it?" Booth handed his wife a glass of red wine before joining her on the sofa, his glass of scotch in hand. "After everything that's happened the last few days, I'm looking forward to a nice, quiet, relaxed evening here at home with my beautiful wife." He put his arm around Brennan and rubbed her shoulder. "It's been an eventful couple of days, hasn't it?"

Brennan nodded as she leaned against her husband, anxious to enjoy the feel of his muscular arm wrapped around her. "Yes, it has. You know, I will admit to being somewhat uncomfortable when I woke up in the Jeffersonian's basement and found Zack staring down at me, but I was never really afraid of him…"

Nodding in agreement, Booth sighed softly as he pulled his wife closer. "I get that. I mean, I guess deep down inside, I knew Zack would never hurt you. My gut kept telling me that it wasn't him that killed those people, although there for a minute…"

"I know. There for a minute it seemed as if he really was responsible for those deaths." Brennan paused as she sipped her wine. "Zack allowed himself to be manipulated by Gormogon several years ago, but in this case, I believe Dr. Roshon was manipulating the situation around Zack without Zack's knowledge. It seems that Dr. Roshon basically allowed Zack to leave without impediment, which made Zack look guilty, or at the very least mentally unbalanced, and he created other evidence pointing to Zack as well."

"And the blackouts?" Booth took a sip of his scotch. "You think Dr. Roshon caused those with the medications he'd given Zack?"

"It's possible." Brennan grimaced slightly, shaking her head as she stared into her glass. "I should have gone to visit Zack at the hospital more often, Booth. Maybe I could've seen what was happening to him…"

"Listen, you're busy being a scientist, a wife, a mother, an author…" Booth kissed the top of her head. "This is not your fault, okay?"

Brennan shrugged a bit and smiled faintly. "I suppose you are correct. However, I do want to make an effort to assist Zack now...to help him transition into a new living situation."

"Of course we'll help him. That's what friends do. They help each other." Booth nodded as he took another sip of his drink. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each enjoying the nearness of the other. Finally, Booth spoke again.

"There is one thing I still don't understand…", he began. "Those clothes the last victim was wearing...they were yours…"

"Oh, I eventually realized how Dr. Roshon obtained them." Brennan patted her husband's thigh as she got up to pour herself some more wine. "The thrift store where I donated them sent me an itemized receipt via email. Dr. Roshon must have tapped our email correspondence like Zack did…"

"Nah...I don't think so...I don't think Roshon saw any of those emails. I don't suppose we'll ever know how he got those clothes. But that wasn't what I meant anyway." Booth got up and stood by his wife, pulling her into his caress. "What I was wondering was why you gave them away to begin with. I really liked them, you know?" He twitched his eyebrows at her. "I mean, that outfit looked really good on you, and I remember one particular evening when you wearing it. We had a lot of fun that night, didn't we?"

Brennan pretended to glare at her husband as she rested her hands on his chest. "We did for awhile, I suppose…"

"You suppose? Aw, c'mon...you know you liked that game, Bones...we were sitting right there on the sofa late one evening after dinner. I'd unbuttoned that blouse part way and pushed it off your shoulders so I could kiss your neck and throat…"

Chuckling, Brennan smiled coyly as she remembered the evening. "And then you pulled the sleeves down and tied them in a knot behind my back so I couldn't use my hands…"

"And then I undid your bra...thank God for front clasp bras…" Booth's face took on a dreamy expression. "And there you were...Laying back on the couch with your hands tied behind your back, with your blouse and bra open so I could enjoy the beautiful view, and I started kissing and licking those cute little nipples, and you were moaning 'cause you liked it so much…"

"And then Christine walked in on us while you were pulling down my slacks, remember? She'd had a bad dream, and she wanted her mommy." Brennan smirked up at her husband. "She wanted to know what we were doing. Do you remember what you told her?"

Thoroughly embarrassed, Booth shuddered at the memory. "That we were playing a game...that we were just wrestling…"

"That is correct. We were wrestling. She believed you, too." Brennan gave Booth a snarky look as she returned to the sofa. "The next time I wore that outfit it was an early release day at her school. When I picked up Christine, her teacher complimented me on my clothing choice, and Christine told her that it was my wrestling outfit and that I wore it when I wrestled with her daddy on the sofa."

"What? She did not..." Booth gasped at Brennan as he stood by the fireplace. "You're making that up…"

"No, I'm not." Brennan shrugged as she continued. "Later that day, when I took Christine to the Jeffersonian with me, Angela commented on the color of my blouse, so our daughter told Angela the same thing, except this time, Christine mentioned to Angela that while we were 'wrestling' my blouse was unbuttoned and that I was partially naked while her daddy held me down on the sofa and made me giggle when he kissed me. As I'm sure you can imagine, Angela was quite enthralled with Christine's description."

"Oh, my God…" Booth was completely mortified. "I can't believe it.", he croaked. "Christine told Angela that?"

"Yes. Then after I left work that day, Christine and I stopped by Priceco for a few minutes, and we ran into one of the priests from your parish church...I think it was Father Mulcahy. He was there with Christine's Sunday School teacher, Sister Mary Clare, buying supplies for the Sunday School Carnival. We chatted for a few minutes, and I'm sure you know what happened next, Booth. Sister Mary Clare admired my blouse…"

"Oh, Sweet Jesus...did Christine tell them we...that you and I...that we were...oh my God…" Booth stammered his questions. "She didn't…" He saw his wife's bemused expression. "Yes, she did, didn't she...she told them we were wrestling on the couch…"

"I'm sure Father Mulcahy must know we 'wrestle', Booth…" Brennan made air quotes as she arched her eyebrow at him. "After all, we have two children together…"

"Yeah, but I don't want him to think we're doing that kind of wrestling in front of God and everybody...especially not in front of our kids…" Booth was horrified. "Did Christine mention the 'naked' part?"

"No, I hushed her before she got to that part, but she did mention that you were laying on top of me…" Brennan bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud at her husband. "Anyway, even though I liked that blouse and those slacks very much, I was concerned that Christine would feel it necessary to mention our wrestling every time I wore them in public, so I decided to donate them to a worthy cause."

"Well, that was probably a good idea." Booth sighed audibly as he grinned at his wife. "You know what that means, don't you, Bones?"

"Does it mean that I can go shopping for some more clothes, Booth?" Brennan's eyes twinkled as she moved to join her husband by the fireplace.

"Of course. You can buy as many clothes as you want…" Booth kissed his wife gently. "However, I think next time we 'wrestle', maybe we should be naked…"

"That makes sense, Booth. In ancient Greece, wrestlers were always nude…"

"No...no anthropology stuff. Just you and me and no clothes…" Booth rubbed her shoulders as he pulled her closer. "...and maybe the bedroom door should be locked…"

"An excellent idea." Brennan pulled away from her husband and put her wine glass on the kitchen counter, giving him a sultry smile before she turned and sauntered toward their bedroom. "What do you think? Best two out of three falls?"

"You know I'm stronger than you, Bones...I'm gonna pin you, and you know what happens then, right?" He licked his lips in anticipation of the evening's main event. "I'm gonna show you what happens when I'm on top, and I bet you'll like it…"

"Perhaps I'll allow you to show me, Booth...but not before I get in some riding time…" She giggled as he caught up with her, pulling him close for a kiss. "I love you, Booth."

"I love you, too, Bones…" Booth closed the bedroom door and locked it before pulling her into his arms. "...but it's time to stop talking…"


	29. Chapter 29 Happy Birthday

The guests from Brennan's 'surprise' birthday party had gone home for the evening. The dishes were done, and Christine and Hank were tucked into their beds, sound asleep. After all the noisy activities surrounding the party, the house was finally quiet. Brennan smiled as her husband handed her a glass of wine and settled on the sofa next to her. "It was a great birthday party, Bones…"

"Thank you, Booth. I was pleased with how things turned out as well. I found that I enjoyed making all of the necessary arrangements to ensure the party's success." She giggled as Booth pulled her into his hug. "It was a lot of fun, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was, but I don't understand why you didn't confide in me about your plans for your party. I could've helped you, you know? It was a lot of work to take on by yourself." Booth sipped his scotch as he leaned back against the couch, his arm still around his wife's shoulders as she nestled against him.

"I realize that, but I wanted the party to be something that came entirely from me. Besides, Booth, I wasn't sure you could adequately keep my secret. I felt that it was important for you to be sitting in the shade so you wouldn't unwittingly give my plans away."

"I think you mean kept in the dark, right?" Booth chuckled softly as his annoyed wife rolled her eyes at him. Taking a sip of his scotch, he continued in a slightly sulky tone. "Anyway, I'm not buying it, Bones. You know I have a level two security clearance, right? I've kept lots of important secrets before, you know? I'm trustworthy…" He pulled a sad face as he pretended to have hurt feelings.

Brennan laughed out loud at her husband's childish whining. "I know you're trustworthy, Booth, but I suppose I was being selfish in a way. I wanted this party to be something I did all on my own without anyone's help. It's difficult to explain why, but it seemed important at the time…"

"Yeah, I get that...you wanted it to be something for Daisy and for Angela from you personally." Nodding, Booth took another sip of scotch. "And they were really pleased with their surprises weren't they?"

"I think so." Brennan swirled the wine in her glass as she thought about what had happened earlier that evening. "When the the director of the National Forensics Lab called me asking for suggestions about someone to take over the head of forensics position, I knew Daisy would be perfect for the job. She's become an extremely competent scientist, even though she's still a young woman." She smiled at Booth as she patted his knee. "And we both know that Angela is quite brilliant with her creative use of computers and other technology to assist us in solving crimes. She richly deserves the recognition she'll receive from the grant. Several programs she uses now have been patented by her and are used all over the country. We wouldn't have been as successful as we have been in our work without her efforts and abilities."

"That grant carries a big chunk of change with it, too, doesn't it? I think Hodgins said 100,000 dollars…" Booth raised his eyebrow as he contemplated the award. "I hope the lab can keep Angela and Hodgins working for them. I'm surprised that some other organization hasn't tried to hire them away."

"I agree. We've been very fortunate in that regard." Brennan mumbled contentedly as she snuggled against her husband. "Oh, I almost forgot. Thank you for my birthday gift, Booth…"

"What? Oh, the judge's order? It was nothing, really. Caroline helped me get it. There's room for doubt in Zack's case, and when I explained that to the judge, she agreed. Besides, it may turn out that it's not such a good gift in the long run. I guess it means lots of extra work for you, since you have to look through all those files…"

"That won't be a problem, really. I read very quickly…" She giggled as she winked at her husband's slight grimace. "I know what you mean, Booth. It will take some time, but it'll be time well spent. However, that wasn't the gift I was referring to."

Booth paused as he thought through the days leading up to Brennan's birthday. "I don't remember giving you a gift, Bones. Did you buy something for yourself? What was it? I thought you didn't want any gifts…"

"No, I didn't buy anything for myself. I didn't want anything like that." Brennan reached up and kissed Booth's cheek. "When you gave me the judge's order, you told me you had faith in me, remember? At the time, I was very pleased, of course, but after contemplating your statement, I eventually realized what the implications of that faith have been…"

Sighing softly, Booth shook his head as he tried to follow his wife's logic. "I don't know what that means, Bones…"

She laughed as she patted his knee. "That's my line, Booth." She hugged him as she continued. "It seems from the beginning...from the first time I met you, you've had faith in me. You saw potential in me that most people missed."

"Well, of course I saw potential in you. I mean, you're brilliant...you're a genius, right? And you're such beautiful person, inside and out..." Booth kissed the top of her head. "I've always known you were very special…"

"I was doing well professionally when I met you, but I was quite awkward socially. It seemed like you realized I could be a better person overall than I was at the time. I wasn't really living my life to its fullest, and you made me see that. I was closed off from people, refusing to love anyone, wanting to be left alone, but you wouldn't let me get away with that...you made me see the importance of caring for other people." Brennan sipped her wine, sighing as she thought about the early days of their relationship. "I didn't realize how lonely I was until I met you...how cold and distant I was…"

Booth interrupted her. "Aw, c'mon, Bones...that's just silly. You've always been a caring and loving person. I've always seen that in you."

"Perhaps, but I had tried to keep that aspect of my personality hidden to avoid being emotionally injured. You had faith that I could be something more…that I could become a well rounded individual instead of just a one dimensional person. When you met me, all I could be was an extremely focused scientist. Not that it's a bad thing to be that focused..." Brennan sniffled a little bit as she wiped away a tear. "...however, because of your faith in me, I've grown as a person in so many ways. I'm now brave enough to engage with others in an emotional fashion. I can be a good friend now, and I can have good working relationships with my colleagues. You've helped me repair my relationship with my father. I'm a good parent, and, most importantly, I can love you like you deserve to be loved." She gave him a small smile as she continued, shrugging slightly. "You know, I was able to pretend, quite convincingly, I might add, to be jealous of Angela's award because at one time in my life I really would have been jealous of her achievements, but you don't let me live my life like that any more. You had faith that I could be a better person, and I didn't want to disappoint you." Brennan rose from the couch to pour herself another glass of wine. "My life is so much better because of your faith in me, Booth. It's a wonderful gift, and I'll always treasure it."

"Bones…" Booth got up from the couch and walked over to embrace his wife. "Of course I have faith in you...and you have faith in me, right?"

"Of course, Booth. I've always had faith in you."

"You know what that means? It means that since we've been together, we've made each other better. That's what loving someone is supposed to do for us, right? Make us better?"

"I suppose you're correct. Perhaps we've allowed each other to become better people." Brennan ran her hands over her husband's broad shoulders as she smiled shyly at him. "It's getting late. Are you ready to receive your gift from me?"

"Oh…I get a present, too?" Booth twitched his eyebrows at Brennan as he gave her a sultry grin. "Just where have you been hiding this gift? Is it a surprise?"

"I think you might be somewhat surprised." She ran her fingers down the front of his shirt. "I've hidden your gift in our bedroom. Would you like to help me look for it?"

"Oh, you know it." Booth kissed her gently before taking her hand and leading her to their room. "Happy birthday, Bones…I love you so much, and I'll always have faith in you."

"Thank you, Booth." She giggled as he kissed her again. "I love you, too."


	30. Chapter 30 The Things We Do For Love

"Hey, Aubrey." Booth walked into the break room in time to see his partner using a ninja juicer on something that looked suspiciously like healthy leafy vegetables. "What the hell? Oh, I get it. Jessica thinks you need to drink some more of that stuff that smells like a camel's rotten ass…"

"Just how do you know what a camel's ass smells like, Booth? It sounds like you must've been up close and personal with some of those critters during those long lonely nights in the desert." Aubrey grumbled and groused as he mixed a second liquid into the liquified green ooze. "This stuff is good for me, alright? So just leave me alone already."

"It may be good for you, but it also makes you act like an ornery son of a bitch." Booth grinned good naturedly at the younger man. "Poor Aubrey. I think you're just really hungry and it's making you sorta cranky."

"No, it's not, dammit!" Aubrey cringed, realizing he'd just cursed at his boss. "Okay, maybe I am a little cranky…" He gave Booth a sheepish grin. "But Jessica says…"

"Now let me get this straight." Booth held up a hand to interrupt Aubrey's ramblings. "You're putting yourself through this colonic cleansing torture because Jessica wants you to? Man, you must have it bad for that squintern girl…"

Grimacing as he took a sip, Aubrey glared at Booth. "I'm doing this because I choose to, alright? This is gonna improve my digestive health. Jessica says that I need to clean out all of the fats, extra sugars, and preservatives that are damaging my digestive system because of my junk food diet, and this black kale and chia smoothie is just the thing to do that. I drink these three times a day, or whenever I feel like I'm craving something sweet." He put on a brave face as he nodded resolutely. "It's only been a few days and I feel better already."

"Well, that stuff would definitely kill a man's appetite for regular food." Booth chuckled as he watched Aubrey try to drink down his smoothie without making a face. "Let me guess...what really happened was that she said no more sex until you tried this smoothie diet, right?"

"What? No!" Aubrey sputtered as he sprayed his smoothie down the front of his shirt. "Sex has nothing to do with it, Booth. I'm just trying to get my body back on track…you know, re-set the ol' digestive system so that it functions at peak efficiency..."

Booth pursed his lips slightly as he nodded. "Yeah, right. How does that crazy diet work? You drink the monkey butt juice for what, a week, just to make her happy, and then you can go back to eating a half dozen doughnuts on your coffee break and a cheeseburger, a double order of fries, and a big slice of apple pie for lunch, right?"

Aubrey reached for some paper towels so he could clean the smoothie from the front of his shirt. "Nope. I'm gonna be good. After I'm through with my intestinal cleansing, Jess and I are gonna go on a low fat, low carb diet together, and I'm gonna eat better. I've already started eating more green stuff."

"I don't get it. Both you and Jessica are slender and in good shape. What makes you think you need to diet?" Booth scratched the back of his neck as he walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee.

"Well, she doesn't need to watch her diet as much as I do, but she's trying to help me out by supporting my good choices. I want to watch what I eat so I can avoid high blood pressure from bad stuff in my diet, especially since I have a stressful job. She's a great cook, and we're gonna try to eat dinner together at home instead of eating out every night, and she's gonna make me some healthy snacks to bring to work. And I'm also gonna limit my junk food intake…"

"And this is all your idea, right? You woke up after a wild night spent with a large tub of extra buttery popcorn, a couple of extra large candy bars and a giant soda from the movie concession stand and decided to turn over a new leaf...a new black kale leaf…" Booth bit his lower lip to keep from laughing out loud. "And your girlfriend's threat to make you sleep on the couch by yourself until you ate better had nothing to do with it, right? C'mon, Aubrey. I know better than that…"

Aubrey puffed out a sigh as he rolled his eyes. "Can't a guy just decide to take better care of himself without his partner giving him a hard time?" He took another swig of the smoothie and stuck his tongue out as he gagged slightly. "God, this shit is awful…not even the chocolate syrup can save it."

Booth chuckled as he patted Aubrey on the back. "Allow me to give you the benefit of my wisdom and experience, okay? Jessica isn't with you 24 hours a day, right? She doesn't know everything that goes on here at work. So just sip on a smoothie while you're with her, you know, to make her think that you're being good, but when you're here at the Hoover, eat whatever you want…she'll never know the difference."

Horrified, Aubrey stared at Booth. "You mean lie to her? I'd never do that, Booth…"

"It's not a lie...you just don't bring up what you eat during the day." Booth shrugged as he sipped his coffee. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

"Well, maybe you don't mind breaking your word to Dr. B when she asks you to lay off the chips and pie, but Jessica trusts me, and I'd never do anything to break that trust. I told her I'd do this, and, by God, I'm gonna do it. I'm a man of my word…" Shuddering as he reluctantly took another sip, Aubrey shook his head. "No way I'm gonna let her down like that…no matter how disgusting this shit is."

"Man, Aubrey…" Booth looked at his partner with a new sense of respect. "It's good to know that you're such a reliable guy." Rinsing out his coffee cup, Booth set it on a rack to dry before raising an eyebrow at the younger man. "I guess I underestimated how you feel about Jessica. I mean, any man willing to drink that stuff for the woman he loves...I guess it's the real deal, right? So are you and Jessica gonna make this a permanent thing?

"I dunno. I'm thinking about it." Aubrey rinsed out his glass as he thought over Booth's question. "I tell you one thing, Booth….I wouldn't give up those raised glazed doughnuts from that bakery in Georgetown for anyone but her…"

"Yep. You've got it bad." Booth and Aubrey left the break room and walked back to the bullpen. "If she's the one who can make you give up doughnuts, it's time to go shopping for a ring."

Aubrey hesitated for a few seconds as they entered Booth's office. "You really think so? I mean, that she may be the one for me? I'd like to think so, anyway...but maybe...I dunno...I wanna be sure."

"Yeah, for what it's worth, I really think so, but it doesn't really matter what I think, does it? It's what you think...you and Jessica. But here's something to think about...you don't mind giving up food for her, and she doesn't mind if you act like a jackass when you're hungry, so it seems to me that you two are made for each other. Sounds like a match made in Heaven to me. Okay?" Seeing Aubrey nod, Booth laughed. "Good. I'm glad we got that straightened out. Now...let's go arrest some bad guys."


	31. Chapter 31 A Gift for Booth

_A/N: this chapter is a little bit naughty but still rated T. The research involved in writing this chapter was very entertaining...I hope you enjoy it as much as I did..._

* * *

It was late in the evening, and time to get ready for bed. Booth was in the bathroom washing his face and brushing his teeth. After making sure he couldn't see her in the mirror, Brennan quickly placed a gift wrapped package on his side of the bed before hurrying to get settled on her own side of the bed. She smiled to herself as she thought of her husband checking his teeth in the mirror and then rinsing with mouthwash. He'd had a similar routine almost every night since they'd first lived together, and she'd decided it was a good thing to use his predictability to her advantage.

She pretended to be engrossed in her latest copy of _Forensics Monthly_ as Booth pulled a clean tee shirt out of his dresser drawer. He pulled it on over his head before turning to get into bed. Seeing the package, he have his wife a suspicious glance.

"What's that?" Booth pointed to the box.

Brennan giggled as she smirked at her husband. "What does it look like? It's a gift for you."

Booth picked up the box and looked it over carefully. Sitting down on the bed he glanced at his wife. "What is it?"

"Why do you always do that, Booth? If you want to know what's in the box, why don't you open it?" Rolling her eyes, Brennan pretended to turn back to her magazine. "That would be the logical thing to do…"

"I want to know what's in the box so I can figure out if I really want to open it. After all, you've given me some pretty weird gifts before…" He gingerly placed the box on his night stand. "I mean, it's not my birthday, or Christmas, or our anniversary...at least I don't think it's our anniversary, is it?"

"You're correct. There is no special occasion. Can't I give you a gift just because I love you? I'm disappointed, Booth. I'm trying to make a romantic gesture, and you denigrate it with your unkind suspicions. Hand me the box…" Brennan held out her hand. "I don't want you to be burdened by the suspense of not knowing what's inside. I'll unwrap it for you..."

"No way. It's my present, and no one's gonna open it but me." He picked up the box and held it close to his chest. "You can't have it back." Hearing his wife's exasperated sigh, he finally gave in. "Okay...I'm sorry. I know you're trying to be nice…" He quickly pulled the paper away from the box and then turned to glare at her. "Jesus, Bones...really?"

"What?" She gave him an innocent look. "Don't you like them?"

"Condoms? You gift wrapped a box of condoms for me as a 'romantic gesture'…" He made air quotes as he shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you do this? I mean, I can go get some of these at Priceco..."

Brennan smiled slyly as she explained Booth's gift. "These are very special condoms, Booth. I got these online…"

"Why would you buy condoms online when we can get them almost anywhere in town?" Booth grimaced as he tried to figure out what his wife was thinking. "I don't get it…."

"Well, I was thinking about our conversation last week when we discussed having more children. Remember? We decided that instead of you having a vasectomy, I'd stay on birth control pills and you'd 'bag your sniper', especially since your semen is comprised of so many viable and highly motile sperm. We don't want to take any chances as far as me getting pregnant right now, correct?" Seeing Booth nod, Brennan continued. "However, I realize that, like most men, you don't really like to use condoms…"

"Yeah, that's true, and wrapping them up in pretty paper isn't going to to change that…", Booth growled stubbornly. "That's like putting lipstick on a pig…"

"I think you'll find that these condoms are different, Booth. They're much more interesting than ordinary prophylactics." She opened the cardboard box and showed him the contents. "I shopped online at a site that sells sexual aids and sex toys, and they carry a wide variety of condoms. I never realized how many different kinds there were, but it appears that there are many variations on the basic, utilitarian design." She gave him a coy smile as she pointed to the top of the box. "Were you aware that condoms come in different sizes?"

"Really?" Puffing out his chest a bit, Booth arched an eyebrow at his wife as he stretched out the bed and began to caress his wife. "What size did you get for me?"

"Wouldn't you like to know..." Brennan pulled away slightly, pretending to be annoyed, before grinning at Booth. "I also discovered that there are many different styles of condoms available, and each type is supposedly designed to maximize and enhance sexual pleasure. I couldn't decide what kind you'd like best, so I bought you a variety pack."

"A what?" Booth scratched his chin as he tried to decipher his wife's story. "A variety pack of condoms? I never heard of such a thing."

"Look." Brennan began to sort through the various small foil wrapped packages. "These glow in the dark…"

"Why? Who'd want a glow in the dark condom? Is that in case a guy needs help in finding his way home? Then he can point the way, right?" Booth laughed as he read the label. "That's just a little too weird for me, I think…"

"It's merely for fun, I suppose, although I can see that they might be useful if you were parked in a dark alley somewhere." She held up another packet. "These are flavored condoms...strawberry, banana, chocolate...they've got a flavored lubricant on them to make oral sex more interesting and enjoyable. And these are impregnated with a warming lotion that's motion activated. I think both partners might find that stimulating under certain circumstances."

"Who even thinks up these things?" Booth was trying to peek over his wife's shoulder, curious to see what else was in the box, but he didn't want his wife to know how interested he really was. He pretended to play things cool as he asked another question. "And how do they find people to test those things out?"

"I don't know. Why is that important? Look at these condoms...they all have different patterns and sizes of ridges and nubs on them to enhance a woman's pleasure. This one has spiral ridges like a barber pole, and this one has small rounded projections all over the surface…and I think you might find this one interesting." She handed him a packet. "It's been molded to have pleasure ridges on the inside of the condom as well as the outside of it." Brennan laid out more of the small foil wrapped squares on the bedspread. "There are many different types of condoms in the box, and there's 144 in all...I just thought you might like a little change of pace...you know, something different." She gave him a flirty grin. "We can conduct some experiments to see which ones you like the best, and then I can order a few of those specific kinds online if you'd like…" When her husband didn't respond immediately, she shrugged sadly as she looked over the colorful display on the the bed. "I guess I misjudged the situation, Booth. I thought you would enjoy this idea. I'm sorry. Perhaps it would be just as good to buy your condoms at Priceco. It would certainly be more practical." She began putting the wrapped condom packages back into the box.

"Wait a minute. I was looking at that…" Booth took a packet from her hand and read the label closely. "This is the one that has the ridges on the inside, right? This is the one I want to try first."

"You're really willing to try one of these, Booth?" Surprised, she turned to look at him to make sure he wasn't teasing her. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course I'm sure. I mean, we've tried all sorts of things together in the bedroom department, right? And since you went to all the trouble to order these little jewels for me, I might as well use them." He winked at her as he pulled her closer. "Who knows? I may be able to go through several of those experimental models tonight. 144 condoms may not last us very long..."

Chuckling, Brennan ran her hands over her husband's broad chest. "I find that I'm looking forward to our research." She kissed his lips gently. "You know, since I'm on birth control pills, my reproductive cycle will be well regulated, and there will be some 'bag free' nights available to you on occasion…"

"I'm glad to hear that, Bones, but I don't want to wait that long. Hey, I've changed my mind. Give me one of those glow in the dark ones…" Booth laughed as he reached up to turn off the lamp on his nightstand. "I think it's time for me to find my way home."


	32. Chapter 32 Numb

Numb. There was no other way to describe it. A couple of weeks had passed since Aldo's death, and Booth was still numb. Sitting alone in the darkened family room of his home, holding his almost forgotten glass of scotch loosely in his hand, Booth tried once again to grasp what had actually happened to Aldo. It wasn't so much that Aldo was gone, really. Booth had long ago realized that most of the folks he cared for had a way of leaving him behind one way or another. No, it wasn't that...it was how it had happened. How could a good guy like Aldo end up being tortured and dying in such a horrible way? It was so unreal...never in his wildest dreams would Booth believe this shit could've happened to one of his oldest friends.

Shaking his head slowly, Booth thought about the downward spiral that had somehow overtaken Aldo, dragging the man down into the depths of self destruction. The former priest had been so proud of owning his own bar, the Paradise Lost, and at the time it seemed like he was really going to be able to make the place successful. Booth had visited Aldo there many times, and Aldo had seemed pleased with the amount of business he had, to the point where he'd considered adding another room in the back...but then, for no apparent reason, it appeared that something had changed in Aldo's attitude over the last eighteen months. The last time Booth had visited the bar, Aldo had let the place get too run down to fix without spending a fortune, and he'd decided to sell it to the guy that Booth and Bones had talked to the day after Aldo died. It had been a surprise to find out that Aldo was still working there as a bartender even though he no longer owned the place. Booth tried to imagine how Aldo must've felt, going from being the proud owner of a fine establishment to a part time barkeep who stole tips, all within the period of a year. It wasn't the happy ending either man had envisioned when Aldo had first purchased the bar. Bones had said that Aldo had probably been having problems dealing with life's ups and downs because of his post concussive illness, but that didn't fully explain what had happened, did it? What had pushed Aldo over the edge? What had made this gentle, kindhearted man become a combative guy...the guy so desperate for a fix that he'd steal money from the tip jar on the bar. That wasn't the man that Booth knew all those years ago...not the man who'd stood in the gap between Booth and God...the man who had saved Booth's life and even his soul in more ways than one.

No, something just didn't add up right. That wasn't like Aldo at all, and that wasn't the only nagging thought running around in Booth's mind. The heroin...why would Aldo use heroin? Booth had known Aldo was using it...he tried to get Aldo to go to the VA hospital and get into the methadone program, but Aldo refused the suggestion. Still...why heroin? A vast supply of alcohol was available within arm's reach at the bar. It would've been easy to get a nip here or there, and probably no one would've been the wiser, but Aldo had chosen something else to ease his pain...something difficult and expensive to obtain. It just didn't make sense.

Booth thought about the last time he'd talked to his former confessor. He'd found Aldo sleeping under a tree in a park in Bellevue, ragged and dirty. Booth wanted to take his friend for a meal, but Aldo had told Booth to leave him alone….he didn't want any good Catholic pity and charity thrown his way like a small bone to a stray dog. "Go fuck yourself, Booth…"

At the time, Booth had thrown up his hands in frustration and walked away, leaving Aldo to his own devices. _An addict has to want help….that's how it was with me and my gambling...I had to hit rock bottom._ Then it occurred to Booth that he'd never been back to see if Aldo had actually ever hit the bottom. Booth hadn't checked back at the VFW hall so see if the guys had been in touch with Aldo, and he'd never been back to the park. Booth had gone on with his life and career, and left Aldo alone to sleep in the park….

But it wasn't just the guilt over feeling like he'd abandoned Aldo that was eating at Booth. His mind circled back to the heroin. Why would Aldo use heroin? There were so many cheaper drugs available...things like meth or maybe even crack... It just didn't make any sense, unless….Booth puffed out a sigh. Maybe somewhere in Aldo's warped and clouded mind, he felt like going all the way to Bellevue to buy heroin was a sort of penance. He wanted a fix so he'd feel better, to take the edge off and avoid the symptoms of withdrawal, but he was going to make himself work for it. Damn priest...nothing ever came easy with him. He couldn't just say fifty Hail Marys and a hundred Our Fathers and be done with it. He had to walk all the way over to the other side of the tracks...to the nastiest part of town...to buy his dope. That was the only thing that made sense...

Except it didn't make sense. Thinking over all the information they'd had so far for the case, there was nothing to indicate who'd killed Aldo. Booth sat back in his chair and sipped his scotch, going through the facts once more. This wasn't a random murder like what might've occurred between two addicts arguing over a needle. This had been planned to the most minute detail. Whoever had done this was using Aldo to get to Booth, but that wasn't the point any more. It didn't make any difference that Aldo had fallen on such hard times, because Booth was still gonna bring his killer to justice. Booth owed everything to Aldo, and the thought that Aldo had made the final sacrifice to save his sorry ass was almost more than Booth could bear.

So Booth drained his glass and sat in the dark, turning the case over in his mind once again as he ran his fingers around the rim of the glass. His thoughts were becoming jumbled and confused, and he knew he should go to bed, but he was feeling restless, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep. Sighing, he leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes as he ran through the facts of the case again…

"Booth?" Brennan stood in the room's doorway, biting her lip before she called softly to her husband. "It's midnight. Why don't you come to bed?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm afraid I'm gonna keep you up all night with my tossing and turning. I wanted to let you sleep." He didn't turn on the lamp, not wanting his wife to see his tear streaked face. "I'll be there in a minute, okay?"

She came and stood behind his chair, whispering in the dark as she lay her hand on his shoulder. "I know you may still need some time and space, Booth, but…" She hesitated slightly. "...but restless or not, I miss having you in bed next to me. Come to bed whenever you're ready, alright? No hurry…I'll still be there waiting for you."

And that was all it took. Hearing the love in his wife's voice was the final stroke that broke the dam of Booth's emotions. He harshly choked back a loud sob. "Aldo told me, you know? He told me that you'd come to the bar that night, asking if you could trust me. Remember? When Pelant...you know? When I said we shouldn't get married...and whatever Aldo told you, it worked, didn't it? You decided you still had faith in me." Running the back of his hand across his face, Booth exhaled slowly. "In my mind, that night was when Aldo truly saved my life, Bones, because if I'd lost you...if you'd left me, my life would've been over. You chose to stay with me and I've always been grateful to him for that."

"Booth, I'm so sorry…", she began softly, shaking her head as she sat on the arm of his chair. "I know you wish things were different…"

"Yeah, I wish things had turned out differently for Aldo, Bones. If I just coulda done something…" Booth sniffled softly as he caressed her gently, knowing that she'd lost a friend as well when Aldo died. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything to help him…"

"I know, Booth. I know..." Brennan put her arms around her husband, consoling him as he wept, ignoring her own tears. "You know we'll do everything we can to find the person who did this to Aldo, and we'll bring him to justice."

"Yeah, we will. We'll make that son of a bitch pay, won't we?", Booth growled. He offered his wife a small smile as he reached up to brush a tear from her cheek. "I don't know about you, Bones, but I'm beat. Let's call it a night, okay?"

"Okay." They walked arm in arm to their bedroom, leaning on each other as they had since they'd first met. The healing had finally begun. It would take a long time to get over their loss, but they had each other, and that was all that mattered now. They'd get through this together.


	33. Chapter 33 Shallow

Jessica Warren was feeling somewhat annoyed as she sat across the table from her boyfriend, watching him in frustration as he sullenly picked at his meal. Aubrey usually loved coming to the Founding Fathers' on Friday night for the two for one appetizers, but tonight he seemed to be too preoccupied to enjoy himself or to make conversation with her. He'd only had one heaping plate of boiled shrimp and six roast beef and cheese sliders to go with his beer, and now he was working on some seven layer nachos, but Jessica could tell his heart wasn't in it. As hard as it was to believe, he just didn't seem to be hungry. To top it off, instead of the normal chatter and lighthearted banter that usually occurred between them, there was what amounted to silence. He'd asked about her day, but offered nothing about his in return, and only listened halfheartedly as she explained how they'd been able to discern the chemical makeup of the heroin their victim had injected between his toes. He was clearly quite distracted, and whatever was bothering him was preventing him from fully engaging in their evening together.

Finally Jessica decided that she'd had enough. She thought she knew why James was preoccupied, but she had decided that he needed to be the one to bring it up, since it was a rather personal problem. It was, perhaps, time for him to come to grips with the situation on his own. She glanced at her phone to check the time. "It's almost eight, and for some reason I'm really tired this evening, James. I'm ready to go home if you are."

"Already?" Aubrey was surprised. "I mean, we've only been here a few hours. We get to sleep in tomorrow, remember?"

She waited for him to suggest that they do something other than sleep late tomorrow morning, but he just shrugged at her suggestion that they leave and asked the waiter for their bill. Slightly exasperated with Aubrey, Jessica puffed out a sigh as she grabbed her coat and purse, wondering if he realized exactly how disinterested he appeared to be. She continued softly. "I know we can sleep in, but I've got things to do tomorrow besides laying around the house. You know, things like laundry, errands, groceries, paying bills…"

"Okay, I get it. Busy day..." Aubrey paid the bill and put his credit card back in his wallet before giving her a wink. "Maybe we can spend some time together tomorrow afternoon...you know, maybe some afternoon delight?" He helped Jessica with her coat and held the door open for her as they left the restaurant. Not getting an immediate response to his suggestion on how to spend their time together the next afternoon, he gave her a sideways glance as they walked together. "Listen, I know, uh, I haven't been exactly present emotionally the last few days…at least not present for you..."

"Well, we've all been working really hard." She shrugged a shoulder, trying not to act like a spoiled teenage girl. She knew he'd been really busy at work. "This case is a really big deal for Booth and Brennan…he was their friend."

"Yeah, I know." He nodded, avoiding eye contact with Jessica. "Anyway, about what Caroline told me...you know, about my dad...I want you to know that I'm not like my father, okay? When I tell you that I'm committed to you, it's true. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Jessica. I'm not like him at all, you know...I would never abandon my family…I could never be like him. I hope you realize that..." He paused, inhaling sharply. "And when I'm finished dealing with him, I'm still gonna feel the same way about us. I want us to be together." He bent down and kissed Jessica gently. "I love you…"

"I know. I love you, too, but we're both under a lot of stress right now…and maybe we should wait awhile before we do anything drastic." Jessica smiled faintly at her boyfriend. "Listen, let's talk about this later, alright? I'm tired. Let's go home…"

Oooooooooo

The rest of the evening was filled with watching an old science fiction movie as they sat quietly snuggling on the couch together. It seemed neither one had anything much to say, so at eleven o'clock Jessica announced that she was going to bed. She quickly walked into the bedroom and changed into her Spartans tee shirt and panties, then brushed her teeth and washed her face before crawling into bed and turning off the light. Aubrey pursed his lips slightly, wondering what was going on with his normally chatty girlfriend. When he was finished getting ready for bed, he turned on the lamp on his side of the bed before crawling under the covers. "Okay, Jess... What's going on?" Not getting an answer, he rolled over and put his arm around her, gently running his fingers across her abdomen. "Hey, Jessica...are you mad at me about something?"

She pretended to sleep for a few seconds before she playfully slapped his hand away. "Not mad at you, really…" She rolled over so she could face him, trying to avoid the sad look in his eyes. "It's more like I'm disappointed in you, I guess…"

"Disappointed...I don't understand." He caressed her cheek gently. "How have I disappointed you? I told you...I'm sorry that I've been preoccupied...that I haven't been focused on you…"

"That's not it, Aubrey." Jessica sighed as she ran her hands down his chest. "I don't expect you to be completely focused on me all the time. I know you have work to do." She shook her head slightly. "This is gonna sound so silly…"

"You'd better tell me right now." Aubrey chuckled as he nibbled at her ear. "If you don't tell me soon, I may be forced to take drastic measures. I know some really persuasive interrogation techniques…"

"Okay!" Giggling, Jessica squirmed away from him and propped herself up on her elbow. "I'm disappointed that you thought I was so shallow…"

"Shallow? I still don't understand." He arched his eyebrow as he grinned. "Good...I get to do some more questioning on my suspect…" He tickled her ribs as she squealed and tried to move out of his way.

"Enough! Okay, I'll tell you." Laughing, she grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand away. "You think that I'm worried about what kind of man your father is, right? That somehow he's influenced you to be a bad person? But I don't care anything about that, because I'm not that shallow. I hope you know me well enough to know that I'd never give up on you so easily...just because he's a bum. I know what kind of man you are, Aubrey, and that's all that matters to me. I love you, and nothing your father has done in the past or anything he might do in the future will ever change that."

"Jess, listen…" Aubrey sighed as he lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "You don't understand. My dad is a horrible man. He abandoned his family...he cheated hundreds of people out of millions of dollars...who knows whatever else he's done...and I want you to know that I'm not like that. I'd never do those things, and I'll never abandon you like that…"

"But you don't understand either, Superman. I already know everything about your father, right? You've told me all of that, and it doesn't make me love you any less. You don't have to prove anything to me to make me stay with you, okay? I already know you're a good man, and that's part of why I'm in love with you." Jessica wrapped her arms around Aubrey, laying her head on his shoulder. "You don't have to carry the sins of your father around with you any more, James..."

"Are you quoting the Bible to a man with a religion minor? Silly girl." She giggled softly as he stroked her hair. "Okay, I get it. No more wallowing in self pity about my old man being a bastard, alright?" Aubrey pulled Jessica close and kissed the top of her head. "Hey, wait a minute. You said that me being a good guy was _part_ of the reason you love me...does that mean there's another reason I should know about?"

Jessica gave him a flirty grin as she reached across him to turn off the lamp. "Well...maybe."

"Am I gonna like this reason?", he chuckled.

"I think so." She kissed him gently as she straddled his waist. "Let's find out…"


	34. Chapter 34 The Fun in the Fiction

_A/N: dedicated to all of my fan fiction friends out there...I hope to read your stories for many years to come._

* * *

"Did Christine enjoy her bedtime story?" Booth handed his wife her usual late night glass of wine and then settled next to her on the sofa with his glass of scotch. She put her tablet aside and snuggled next to him, sighing happily as she enjoyed spending some quiet time with her husband.

Brennan nodded. "It seems that she did, although she became drowsy very quickly. Perhaps it's a good thing that I don't read my own audio books, Booth. Perhaps I'm boring to listen to while I read. I might make the listener fall asleep, which would have disastrous consequences if the listener was driving."

"Nah, you aren't boring. She was just tired." Booth rubbed Brennan's arm gently. "So did you really read her all of that scary stuff that's in the book?"

"I presented her with a somewhat more sanitized version. Don't worry, Booth. I'm not going to scar her for life by what I read to her before she goes to sleep. Anyway, Christine already reads well...she's several levels above where the average child her age reads. In a few years she'll be able to read my books on her own." Brennan sipped her wine and shrugged. "Unless you plan on censoring what she reads…"

Being a smart man, Booth recognized the potential for an argument in his wife's statement, and he wasn't in the mood for that sort of challenge this evening. "I think I'll defer to your expertise on that matter, Bones. I'm sure you'll be able to guide her better in that area of her education. After all, we both know that I consider graphic novels to be great works of literature."

"True, although some of those graphic novels you read contain some very intricate plots and well drawn characters." Smiling, Brennan shrugged as she lay her head on her husband's shoulder. "You can trust me, Booth. I'll be sure to give her an adequate foundation so that she understands that my books are works of fiction and not really about us."

Booth sighed softly as he nodded in agreement, hoping another crisis had been averted. "I was surprised to see Dr. Fisher in the lab today…"

"Well, as you may remember, he was tutoring the former President's daughters, but with the change in administration came a change in the direction of his career. He was in need of some temporary employment until he could find a more permanent job, so he called Cam and asked if we might need him for a few weeks. With Daisy leaving the Jeffersonian to take her new position, his offer was quickly accepted." Brennan absentmindedly ran her fingers lightly across Booth's broad chest. "His knowledge of academia proved to be quite useful in solving our latest case. He understands the world of the highly driven parents who will do anything to make their children successful."

"Good. I hope he finds a different job soon, but I'm glad he was useful in the case." Booth sipped his scotch as he glanced over at Brennan's tablet. "Hey, that looks interesting. What've you been reading?"

"Oh, this?" Brennan blushed slightly as she showed Booth the page on her tablet. "Dr. Fisher told me about this website. It's a place where amateur authors can post fan fiction."

Booth shrugged slightly as he listened to Brennan's explanation. "I don't get it. Fan fiction? What's that?"

"We've discussed this before, remember?" Brennan scrolled through the list on the website's page. "People write stories about their favorite fictional characters, or perhaps about a book series or a television series. The stories are usually additional scenes and events or background stories on the characters...things not contained in the actual books or episodes of the programs." She handed Booth the tablet. "This thread contains fan fiction about my Kathy Reichs novels."

Booth scrolled through the lengthy list. "And all of these fan stories are about your books? Isn't that kind of bizarre?" Booth grimaced slightly as he read through the titles. "This kind of reminds me of your crazy ass stalker Oliver Laurier and his creepy role playing puppets. Does he have any stories on here? It looks like there are thousands of stories posted..."

"I don't know if Oliver has written any stories for this site." Brennan ran her fingers across the tablet, showing Booth the several pages of postings. "People have been writing fan fiction for several years about Kathy and Andy...ever since my first book came out twelve years ago. However, I don't believe it's meant to have a stalker-like quality. I actually think it's flattering that authors want to write fan fiction about my books. The fact that people want to do this indicates that they enjoy the stories I've written and the characters I've created, and they want to extend their enjoyment in a creative way. Some of these stories have excellent plots...there have been a few of them that I wished I had written myself."

"Well, if it's okay with you that obsessed fans do this, then I'm fine with it, I guess, but I still think it's kinda weird. Personally, I don't think it's a good thing." Booth sipped his scotch and laughed to himself as he imagined his wife's reaction to that statement. He was soon rewarded in grand style.

"You don't get to decide either way, Booth. It's my decision about allowing the fan fiction to continue. You're being overprotective again." Brennan pulled away from him with an exasperated sigh. "If I want people to stop posting on the website, I can ask the site administrator to remove the stories and to no longer accept new ones, but it's my choice not yours…" Glancing up at her husband, she saw his smirk. "Oh, I understand...you're teasing me…"

"Yep." Booth grinned as he scrolled through the list but his expression soon changed. "Hey, wait...look at this story...it says in the summary that Kathy Reichs and one of her interns engage in a clandestine love affair, complete with explicit sex scenes...and it's written by someone named _Kierkegaardrocks..._ did Fisher write this?" Seeing Brennan bite her lip, Booth gritted his teeth. "Wait a minute...did he write this before or after he offered his discount semen to you when you thought you wanted to have artificial insemination to conceive a child all those years ago? Is he talking about making a direct deposit? Wait 'til I see him again…I'm gonna set that guy straight. No way he writes sex scenes about my wife and gets away with it..."

Brennan rolled her eyes at her husband as she took the tablet from him. "That was written a long time ago, Booth, and I wasn't your wife at the time. Besides...it's fiction, remember? Fisher was just enjoying a good dose of angst. It seems to be his favorite genre." She chuckled as she showed Booth some different stories. "Here are some stories you might be interested in. It seems that Agent Andy has quite an extensive fan fiction following of his own. Several of these episodes seem to imbue him with almost legendary sexual stamina and an exceptional talent for helping Kathy achieve multiple orgasms. It seems Andy is also quite an impressive physical specimen, and many authors like to write about his sexual exploits with Kathy and, on occasion, with other female characters in the stories. And look at this…" She showed Booth another thread. "Here's a whole series of stories imagining different situations in which Agent Andy might have to remove his boxers…"

"Let me see that…" Booth put his glass on the table as he skimmed through a few of the stories. "Wow...these stories are really hot...and very explicit." He arched an eyebrow at his wife. "It's interesting to see what these people imagine about page 187, but I'm not sure some of those positions they describe are physically possible…"

Brennan gave her husband a suggestive smile. "Perhaps not, but I know how we can find out. Maybe we could experiment with some of the ways that Agent Andy loses his boxers...only instead of Andy, we can see how Agent Booth loses his boxers…" Brennan giggled as her husband drew her close and kissed her.

"I think Kathy has to lose some clothes, too, doesn't she? Maybe it's a good thing that we have some new ideas to play around with in the bedroom department, right?" He kissed her again. "Whaddya say? Are you ready to go turn some fan fiction into reality, Bones?"

Brennan smiled as she rose from the sofa and picked up her tablet before sauntering toward their bedroom. "Definitely, Booth. Let's go make some fantasies real."


	35. Chapter 35 Tribology

Booth lay stretched out on the kingsized bed, watching as his wife dried her hair while she got ready to retire for the night. "You know, I still think you pulled me off of the log when you fell off, Bones. I think you cheated so that science wouldn't be proven wrong." He smiled to himself, waiting for her annoyed reaction.

"I did no such thing, Booth! You fell off the log on your own and knocked me off on the way down!" Brennan was thoroughly indignant as she threw her towel in the clothes basket. "You just don't want to admit that I was going to beat you. You couldn't take it, knowing that science was on my side, so you were the one who cheated." She came and stood beside the bed where her husband was laying, a hand on her hip as she shook her finger at him. "That was beneath you, Booth…"

He reached up to grab her and pulled her down onto the bed next to him. "I'll tell you what I'd like to have beneath me now...if you're nice…" He gave her a flirty grin as he caressed her gently. "C'mon, Bones...I don't want to talk about science stuff any more…", he whispered. "I'd much rather do other things…"

"Not even the science of sexual attraction?" She arched her eyebrow at him as she giggled. Running her hands down his broad chest, she smiled coyly. "I'm surprised you don't want to learn more about physics, Booth. I think it would help you play hockey more successfully."

With a dramatic sigh, Booth rolled over onto his back and stared at the bedroom's ceiling. "Really? Here I am, trying to make love to my beautiful wife, and all she wants to do is talk about physics…"

"It's not my fault that your favorite sport has so many ways in which physics is applied. The movement of the puck and the players are all governed by Newton's Laws of Motion." Brennan snuggled next to Booth and began to run her fingers over his well defined abdominal muscles. "You know that hitting the puck harder makes it go farther, right? That's Newton's second law...force equals mass times acceleration. You know how to predict where a puck is going off the stick...that's an extension of the first law...objects in motion stay in motion...unless it's acted on by another hockey stick, of course." She kissed his cheek gently before continuing. "The force your body exerts on the skate blade causes the blade to heat as it passes over the ice, melting the ice which quickly refreezes, so the ice as to be cleaned with a Zamboni…you wear a helmet because of the third law, which says for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction. A properly designed helmet should prevent your brain from being moved inside the cranium after a blow to the head…"

"Way to kill the joy, Bones. Can't I just enjoy the game without knowing how everything works?" Booth stuck his lower lip out in a bit of a pout. "Science takes all the fun out of playing the game…"

"I disagree, Booth. I think science makes things a lot more fun. I enjoy activities quite a bit more when I understand the science behind them. Anyway, I was hoping to introduce you to another branch of physics this evening, but it appears you're no longer in the mood to learn something new." Brennan's hurt feelings were evident as she pulled away from Booth and moved toward her side of the bed.

Sighing quietly, Booth moved closer to his wife and put his arm around her. "Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I guess maybe I am being a sore loser." He saw her 'I told you so' expression and quickly backtracked. "I'm not saying I actually lost at logrolling, okay? I'm just saying that I know you love science, and I know that I love you, so I should be more open to learning more about science. Of course, that means you should be more open to doing some things my way, right? Like maybe letting Christine learn to ride her bike without a PhD in physics, right? Trial and error can be a good way to learn things, too."

Brennan rolled over and faced her husband, smiling as she caressed his cheek. "I suppose you're correct, Booth. I should learn to compromise a little bit, especially since you've had experience in training children how to ride a bicycle. I know you taught Parker, so I should allow you to use your expertise to teach Christine as well."

"See? That's good, right?" Booth pulled his wife close and kissed her gently. "So as part of the compromise, what new science were you going to teach me about tonight? Does it have something to do with sports?"

"It's used in sports and in designing mechanical devices, among other things." She grinned as she trailed kisses down Booth's jaw and neck. "I think you'll like it. It's called tribology."

"Tribology?" Booth nibbled at his wife's ear. "What the hell is that?"

Brennan giggled as she pulled her husband over on top of her. "Tribology is the study of friction…"

"Hmm…" Booth moaned softly in satisfaction as he held his wife close. "I hope my lessons last all night long…"


	36. Chapter 36 News

Walking quickly through the Hoover, Agent James Aubrey was a man on a mission. He had news...news that couldn't be delivered by anyone but him. He was grim as he stood in the doorway of Caroline Julian's office.

She looked up from her desk and seeing his expression, she knew what he had to say. "Oh, Sweet Jesus…"

"Booth just called." Aubrey drew a shuddering sigh as he came in and gripped the back of a chair, his hands shaking as he tried to control the overwhelming wave of emotion that flooded through him. "Max...Dr. Brennan's father...he passed away about an hour ago…."

Wiping her tears away, Caroline shook her head. "But they said he'd survived his surgery...what happened?"

"Booth didn't say...I guess they'd moved Max from recovery to his room. Dr. Brennan was with him, talking to him, and he just sort of fell asleep…" Aubrey exhaled slowly. "I can't wait until we find out who's behind this thing. I swear, I'm gonna take those bastards down…"

Caroline grimaced as she rose from her desk. "Listen, Cherie...I know you wanna get those guys in order to help Booth and his sweet wife, but we gotta make sure you follow protocol on this thing, okay? No good going off half cocked and getting the case compromised…"

"Yeah, okay, I get that...but I gotta do something, you know?" Aubrey began to pace the small office. "I mean, Booth and Dr. B...they're my friends, and I wanna help them somehow…"

"I know, and we will...we'll be right there working on the case while Booth tends to his wife and their kids, okay?" Caroline gave Aubrey a pointed look. "This isn't the time for freelancing, okay? Strictly by the book...we don't want anything overlooked, but we don't want to make procedural errors and have the case thrown out…"

"Right." Aubrey nodded as he gritted his teeth. "By the book."

Sitting on the edge of her desk, Caroline dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. "I never thought something like this would happen to Max Keenan. He was a tough old bird, Cherie. It didn't surprise me one bit when I heard that he'd protected his grandkids and took out those men who'd stormed the safe house. I really thought he'd outlive us all…"

Nodding, Aubrey agreed. "I know Booth respected Max a lot. I guess they had more in common than Booth actually cared to admit...more than just Dr. B, you know? Max had a sort of badass gunslinger mentality, and Booth has some of that, too, right? I mean, maybe they were on different sides of the law from time to time, but you know...nobody was gonna mess with either one of them and come out ahead very often. I guess in some ways, Booth has lost a father figure as well."

"I think that's true." Smiling ruefully, Caroline sighed softly. "We tried to arrest Max several times, but he always managed to slip away somehow, up until the time he decided to let himself get arrested. He was a wily fox, that one. He told me once that Booth was a good man...the only man he trusted with his daughter. That was high praise…a cop good enough for his daughter..."

"Yeah." Aubrey glanced toward the office door. "I need to go see Director Stark and tell him what's going on. We've got Mark Kovac in custody, but we've gotta make sure there's enough to close the case on him, and Booth wants to take some time off to be with his family…there's still a lot of work to do..."

"Did Booth say when the funeral would be held for Max?" Caroline sniffled a bit as she tried to compose herself.

"No, they hadn't gotten that far yet. He called me and gave me a list of people to inform about Max's death, and said he'd send out more information tomorrow." Aubrey paused slightly, walking over to pat Caroline on the shoulder. "You were on the top of the list, you know? Even above his boss…"

"That boy's got his priorities straight, don't he?" Caroline smiled through her tears. "Thanks for tellin' me that, Cherie. I appreciate it. You'd better go see Stark…"

"Okay. I'll call you as soon as I hear anything else…" Aubrey waved as he quickly left the office.

Caroline sat heavily in her desk chair, wondering what the world was coming to if old men were being shot at while they were trying to protect small children. Leaning back in her chair, she stared up at the ceiling and smiled faintly. "It was nice knowing you, Max. Be sure to ask the Lord to look out for your family over the next few months, okay? I'm afraid they're gonna need some help, especially since you've moved on…" She sighed as she turned back to the work on her desk, hoping that the Lord would help her wrap up this case quickly as well.


	37. Chapter 37 The Sea Shell

Booth groaned softly as he shifted in his bed. Sleep had often eluded him over the past few weeks since Max's passing, but tonight he'd fallen asleep easily. He was so comfortable and relaxed...lying there with his eyes closed listening to the quiet house in the middle of the night. He opened his eye to peek at the clock on his bedside table...1 AM...hmm...he yawned widely before rolling over to give his wife a gentle squeeze. She wouldn't mind indulging him in a little bit of sex...after all, she loved him...but she wasn't sleeping next to him in their bed. Thoroughly surprised, Booth turned on the lamp and sat up in bed, wondering where his wife was. He glanced toward the bathroom...no light coming from under the door...but there was some noise coming from the hall. Nodding to himself, he got out of bed and went to check on his wife.

He walked quietly, not wanting to startle her as he stood outside her office. He peered around the door that was slightly ajar. There she was, sitting in the armchair next to the window, sobbing as she held a cardboard box on her lap. Pushing the door open, he spoke softly. "Bones? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Booth. I didn't mean to wake you." She quickly wiped away her tears. "I was just...this will sound really silly…" She sniffed loudly as she tried to explain, pointing to the box on her lap. "I wanted to look at this again."

Stepping into her office, he pulled her desk chair over to where she was sitting. "What is it? Can I look at it?"

Brennan hesitated before nodding. "Yes, of course." She tried to smile as she handed the box to Booth. "I've kept that box stored in the closet here, but for some reason…"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Bones." Pulling the flaps of the box back, Booth reached in and pulled out a large sea shell. Surprised, he looked at his wife. "What is this?"

"My father gave that to me when he came to visit me once...it was when Jacob Broadsky shot the Gravedigger, and Max had been named to the suspect list, remember?" Brennan chewed her lip slightly as she reminisced about those past events. "He met us at the diner after you were finished at the emergency room. I remember how angry I was at you that evening, Booth...almost getting yourself killed because you hadn't told me you were going out to the acreage by yourself to bring Broadsky in…going alone to prove something, I suppose."

"Bones, that was a long time ago…" Booth sighed sadly as he thought about that evening. They had been in an awkward place in their relationship then, and it hurt once again as he realized what he'd almost lost.

"I know. I forgave you eventually." She smiled faintly before continuing. "In any event, Max and I were leaving the diner, and he wanted to know if I had believed him when he said he was innocent of that crime...of the Gravedigger's murder, and he was most pleased when I finally said that I'd believed him even without the evidence to back up his claim. We laughed and talked for a few minutes, and then he gave me a gift...that ceramic conch shell with my name painted on it." Chuckling softly in spite of her tears, she reached out and ran her fingers over the small openings on the side. "It's a toothbrush holder."

"Really? I don't think I've ever seen this in our bathroom…" Booth gave Brennan a skeptical look as he inspected the large shell. "This is ceramic? It looks real…"

"It looks very real, and it works." Taking the shell from her husband, she held it up to her ear. "You can hear the ocean…" She held it up to Booth's ear so he could listen. "Do you hear it?"

"Yeah. I can hear it." Booth swallowed hard as he remembered how he'd felt when he'd looked out the diner window to see her holding the shell against her ear that evening. She looked so beautiful...so happy and so innocent as she enjoyed her gift, and he'd been devastated as he realized how much he still loved her and how it had seemed he'd screwed up his life for good. "That's pretty cool."

"Yes, it's very 'cool'. Max told me that he knew that I would tell him it was the blood rushing through our heads, but when I was a little girl, he'd told me it was the ocean…" Another wave of tears threatened to spill from Brennan's eyes. "I had a dream about my dad tonight, Booth. He was standing on the beach somewhere, holding a shell up to his ear, happily listening to the ocean…" A lone tear trickled down Brennan's cheek. "I used this for awhile in my apartment, but it's rather large to sit on a small bathroom counter, so I boxed it up. I couldn't part with it, even though that's not practical. It's just an object with no intrinsic value…"

"It has value, Bones, because it reminds you of Max. I know it's hard now to think about him without being sad, but someday, you'll be glad to have something like this to help you remember him." Booth took the shell from Brennan and tenderly placed it back in its box. "In fact, someday in the near future, if you want, you can put it in our bathroom and we can use it for our toothbrushes."

Laughing softly, Brennan took the box from Booth and put it back on the top shelf of the closet. "That's a lovely thought, Booth, but I actually think it's rather unattractive as a toothbrush holder. It does, however, serve as a nice reminder of my father." She brushed away another tear. "Do you think I'm being silly for keeping it?"

"Of course not. I mean, after all, I've got all sorts of things scattered all over our house that came from my Pops. You might as well have some keepsakes from Max to add to the mix." Booth shrugged at Brennan as he snickered softly. "We'll let the kids worry about getting rid of our stuff when we're gone, okay? You can keep whatever you want from his things and bring them home...you said Russ didn't care…"

"Max didn't keep a lot of things from his past. He'd always been rather nomadic, and except for some old photographs, his watch and his rings, there aren't a lot of things left…" Brennan sat on the edge of the armchair's seat. "I miss him so much, Booth…"

"I do, too, Bones." Booth smiled sympathetically as he took his wife's hand. "It's gonna take awhile for us to get over losing him like we did, but we can work through this together, you know? We're gonna be here for each other, supporting each other, and eventually we'll get through it, okay?"

She nodded before yawning. "Okay." Rising from her chair, she gave Booth a kiss. "I'm going back to bed. Care to join me?"

"Sure." He rose from the chair and returned it to the desk before engulfing Brennan in a hug. "I love you, Bones. I always have...even that night at the diner...I loved you then, too, but now I love you even more. I'm so grateful I got a second chance with you…"

Brennan chuckled as she took her husband's hand in hers. "You were most likely going to have as many chances as you needed, Booth, just like Max did. Thank you for bringing my father back into my life, Booth. I love you, too...I always have, and I always will."


	38. Chapter 38 Bumps in the Road

Brennan sighed softly as she shook out the curly wig she'd worn when she recently portrayed Wanda Moosejaw. She held it in her hand and studied it for a few seconds before putting it back in its box. Putting the lid on the box, she placed it once again on the top shelf of her bedroom closet, hoping that she wouldn't need to use it again any time soon.

Hearing Booth call to her as the front door opened, she walked into the living room to greet him with a kiss. "How was your day? Did you get a murder confession from someone at the bank?"

Booth nodded as he kissed her gently. "Yeah, it was the bank teller. She didn't count on the bank manager making a stupid mistake. When he talked about the robbery he stated exactly how much money had been taken, and the bad guys thought the kid was holding out on them, so they threatened him. The kid figured out she had the money so he went to see her and she fought with him...she said it was an accident that the gun went off…" He poured himself a scotch and sat down at the kitchen counter. "I guess we went undercover for no good reason, right? I mean, we got the bank robbers, but still…"

"Booth, I need to tell you something…", Brennan began as she stood behind the counter opposite of where her husband sat.

"Okay…" Sipping his scotch, he shook his head at her. "You know, I hate it when you start a conversation like that…"

"I know, but…" She studied the kitchen counter for a few seconds before she continued. "...I wanted to talk to you about our going undercover at the demolition derby…"

"I'm sorry about that, Bones. I know you didn't enjoy it. It was hot, and noisy, and…"

"No, that's not the problem. Surprisingly, the noise didn't bother me as much as you might think, and I actually had fun driving the car in the derby." She shrugged slightly, running her fingers across the back of Booth's hand. "I want to apologize for being so difficult while we were there. I know I've been unpleasant lately, and I also know that I was exceptionally irritable at the demolition derby while we were there talking to the various participants and gathering information…"

"Aw, c'mon, Bones...you weren't that bad…" Booth smiled as he entwined his fingers in hers.

"I disagree." Brennan brushed a tear away as she continued. "I didn't think about anything uncomfortable occurring at the time...when you and I first discussed the idea of our going undercover with Dr. Wyatt. I really did think it sounded like an interesting plan, especially since the people who participate in those activities seem to have developed their own subculture…" Seeing Booth's annoyance, she decided to take a more direct route to her point. "I was fine with the assignment while I was getting dressed, but I put on Wanda's wig…" Brennan's lower lip trembled a bit as she hesitated. "...and I remembered when I wore it during that case at the bowling alley. Remember? You were bowling on my dad's team because he'd hurt himself. We spent a couple of days with him while we worked that case. I had so much fun being there with him while we were working…"

"And then you remembered...oh, Bones, I'm so sorry." Booth walked around the counter to embrace his wife. "I didn't even think about that. I guess I was all caught up in the idea of being Buck Moosejaw, and I didn't realize you might think about Max…"

"It isn't your fault, Booth." Brennan rested her head against Booth's shoulder. "Today I've been concentrating on remembering the happier things that occurred during that case, and I feel somewhat better. Michael-Vincent was born…"

"And I found out that I was gonna be a dad again…" Booth chuckled as he stroked his wife's hair. "I still remember that conversation word for word…"

"Booth…" Brennan rubbed circles on his chest as he held her close. "...do you think there's something wrong with me? I seem to be having a more difficult time accepting Max's death than I did my mother's death, and I don't understand why…"

"There are probably a lot of reasons for that, I guess. You had already accepted that your mother was most likely dead when her remains were found, so it wasn't as much of a shock...Max's death was sudden, and the circumstances were different." He tilted her chin so she was looking up at him. "But there's nothing wrong with you. There isn't just one correct way to grieve for someone you love, okay? It takes time, and you may still have some bumps along the way." Booth smiled as she nodded. "And you know what? Difficult or not, I'm still gonna love you…"

"Even when I'm grouchy? Angela accused me of being grouchy the other day…"

"Hmm...I may have to think about that…" Laughing at his wife's scowl, Booth gave her another kiss. "I'll make a deal with you, okay? Since you love me even when I talk in my sleep and produce excess gas, I'll love you even when you're grouchy. How about that?"

Brennan smirked at her husband as she ran her fingers down his tie. "I don't know. It seems like I may have received the more difficult part of that bargain because you produce excess gas far more often than I'm grouchy…"

"I do not!" Realizing that she was teasing him, Booth laughed as he pulled his wife closer. "See? Neither one of us is perfect, right? I guess that means we'd better stay together. I don't know if I can find someone as gas tolerant as you are…"

Shaking her head, Brennan giggled as she turned to put Booth's glass into the dishwasher. "Probably not, Booth. Probably not."


	39. Chapter 39 More Changes

"Hey, Bones…" Booth gave his wife a kiss and a quick squeeze as she met him at the front door. "Are the kids in bed yet?"

"No, they're playing school in Christine's bedroom. How was your post-case celebration with Aubrey? Did you tell him the news?" Brennan took Booth's coat and hung it in the closet. "I imagine he was somewhat surprised…"

"Yeah, he was, but in a good way. I think he was happy and excited, too. It's a great feeling to be considered for a promotion like that, you know?" Plopping down on the couch, Booth laughed as he pulled Brennan down next to him. "I'll miss having him around here, but, you know…"

"I know. He's your friend, and you want him to be successful, but it's sad to think that he'll be moving so far away. I find that I've grown quite attached to him as well…" Brennan smiled sadly as she snuggled against her husband. "It will be an adjustment for you, too, having to break in another partner...having to mentor someone again…"

"Well, the Bureau thinks I'm good at that shit, I guess." Booth shrugged as he pulled off his tie. "I mean, Aubrey did a good job on this case without my help. He kept his cool even when I needled him a bit, and he figured out how to do things his own way even when I suggested something different. I was real proud of him, you know? He was able to stand on his own two feet, and he definitely proved himself worthy of this promotion."

Laughing softly, Brennan shook her head at her husband. "Didn't he already prove himself worthy when he took over as Special Agent in Charge after we both left our jobs? He took your place, and your office, too, if I remember correctly. He also helped me in a very satisfactory manner during that case when you had to stay in the office because of being required to do that traffic school program. Perhaps you were merely being resistant when it came to giving him complete control of a case. You like being completely in charge at all times..."

"That may be true, but I wasn't actually there to see how he did those things, right?" Booth pretended to glare at his wife when she rolled her eyes at him and giggled. "What? If I'm gonna recommend a guy for a promotion...if I'm gonna sign off on it, I wanna make sure the guy can do the job, alright? And Aubrey proved that he can do the job with the way he handled this case, so now I'm satisfied…" Sighing, Booth grimaced slightly. "It's a really good opportunity for him, you know? He wants to move up to a better position in the FBI, and changing regional offices is probably the easiest way to do that, but you're right...I'm gonna miss him, and I'm not really looking forward to replacing him with somebody new that I'll have to train all over again…"

"Not to mention what will happen between him and Ms. Warren…" Brennan patted Booth's knee. "That may affect his opinion about accepting a position that will take him across the country from her."

Booth cringed at the thought. "Jesus...I didn't even think about that. She still has some work to do on her degree, right?"

Brennan nodded. "Yes, and while it's not impossible for her to complete her degree somewhere else, it may be quite complicated for her to transfer all of her coursework, even with the number of excellent universities in the Los Angeles area. However, I'm sure if their relationship is important to them, they'll be able to work out a solution…" After hesitating for a few seconds, she continued cautiously. "Speaking of degrees...I had a discussion with Wendell today about his dissertation…"

"Oh, yeah? Did he finally decide on a topic?" Booth grinned as Christine and Hank came running into the family room, squealing happily as they greeted their father. Hoisting Hank onto his lap, he bounced the baby on his knee. "I think it would be hard to write something like that…"

"No, he doesn't have a topic, and I had begun to think he was merely procrastinating, but as of today, I believe the real difficulty lies elsewhere." Worried that Booth would be upset, Brennan chose her words carefully. "I suggested that perhaps the problem lies in the fact that he isn't entirely certain he truly wants to do the work required to be a forensic anthropologist. I told him that perhaps he would be happier doing something else, and he tentatively agreed…"

"So...what? He's just gonna quit the program and start college over again? Bones, that'll take years...he doesn't have that kind of money…" A pained expression crossed Booth's face. "Was he really okay with the idea?"

"He seemed to be. As a matter of fact, I'd say he was relieved. I know he's made an enormous financial investment in his education, but I don't think it would be responsible of me to allow him to spend more money on a degree that he doesn't really want. Wendell has his master's degree and several hours of advanced coursework, so he can teach at a university for a few years if he wants until he knows for sure that he desires to pursue his doctorate. He'll be in a better position to make a more informed decision." Brennan exhaled slowly. "It was awkward to discuss that with him, Booth, but I didn't want him to make a mistake that he'd regret for many years. I honestly don't think he has the passion necessary for being a forensic anthropologist. It's a highly competitive field, and the work is so challenging. I wanted to make sure he understood that. That's part of my job as his advisor. Being an intern with me not only gives him practical experience, but it also allows Wendell to determine if his chosen field is truly a good fit for him."

"I know...it's just that I kind of worry about the guy, you know? I mean, he's been through some rough times…" Booth put Hank down and watched him totter away. "I don't want him to feel like he's giving up. I wanna be sure that he's not caving in just because he can't think of something to do his research on. I mean, he's worked with you for years...and to just quit like that? Are you sure he wasn't giving in just to avoid an argument?"

"That wasn't my impression, Booth, but he said he's coming over tomorrow night to watch that sporting event on television with you. Maybe you should discuss it with him. I think he'd be more likely to tell you what he truly feels about the situation. He might be concerned about telling me the truth because he doesn't want to injure my feelings."

"Okay, I see if I can do some reconnaissance for you." Booth grinned as he rubbed Brennan's arm. "Hey, were there any leftovers from dinner tonight?"

"Yes. Are you ready to eat?" Brennan rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen, pulling a plate from the refrigerator. As she started to warm the food in the microwave, she turned to her husband, who was now seated at the kitchen counter. "I suppose as teachers and mentors, we should be used to our students and those we train moving on to different jobs or moving to different parts of the country, but it never gets easier, does it? It seems that I get emotionally attached to my interns, even when I make an effort to keep myself strictly professional…"

"That's because you care about them, Bones, and that's what makes you a good teacher and advisor…" Booth patted her hand and smiled. "All of your interns know how you feel about them…"

"It makes you a good mentor as well. The agents that work with you know you always have their best interests at heart. Many less experienced agents clamor for access to your expertise, correct? Think about how many agents you've trained over the years, and how successful they've become after they've had the benefit your tutelage. It's no wonder the FBI assigns young agents to work with you." Brennan set the plate in front of Booth and smiled. "We are very good at our jobs, aren't we, Booth?"

"Yep." Booth took a bite of his dinner and smiled. "We are very good at our jobs."


	40. Chapter 40 Now What?

_A/N: I guess this chapter may be considered slightly AU since I've provided some explanation that may not be actually what happened. I hope you enjoy it anyway._

* * *

Fumbling with his keys, Agent Aubrey finally unlocked his apartment door and entered the darkened living room. He and Booth had been enjoying a couple of beers after the case was closed when Booth had given him the good news. He, Special Agent James Aubrey, was up for a promotion and a transfer to the FBI office in Los Angeles. Throwing his keys in the dish on the console by the door, Aubrey flipped on the lights and finally allowed himself a exultant whoop and a fist pump. Supervisor in the Los Angeles field office. "Yeah, Baby…California, here I come…"

Throwing his suit jacket over a chair, Aubrey laughed as he looked around his sparsely furnished apartment. At least he wouldn't have a lot to pack when he moved. In fact, it might be easier to get rid of most of his stuff and start fresh in LA. It was exciting to think about getting a new place, although he wondered if the rents would be higher and if he might have to settle for a smaller place...oh well, just another reason to get rid of some stuff, right?

Aubrey gave up all pretense of being cool and calm about the promotion, happily laughing as he remembered Booth's explanation. One of Booth's cronies, Tony Becker, had read some of their case reports and had been very impressed with their conviction rate. Becker knew that Booth was absolutely ensconced in DC and couldn't be tempted to move, but he'd sent Booth a couple of emails about his partner, wondering what kind of guy Aubrey was, and wondering if he'd be tempted to move to a different office if he was offered a promotion. Even though Booth had been reluctant to lose a good partner, he said he'd pass the information on…

Grabbing another beer from his refrigerator, Aubrey plopped down on his sofa and thought about the past few years working with Booth. Booth was a good man to work with...passionate about his work, compassionate toward other people, extremely intelligent, thorough, and detail oriented...and with a ridiculously high solve rate. There'd been rough times and good times over the last three years, but Aubrey had begun to look on Booth as a trusted friend as well as a colleague. The Special Agent in Charge was an exceptional agent, and Aubrey had to admit to himself that, perhaps, he'd managed to gain some of his own success by riding on Booth's coattails a bit. Of course, he'd had several chances to prove his own worth, especially when he'd been named interim Special Agent in Charge after Booth had 'retired'. Interim Special Agent in Charge...much to his chagrin, Director Stark hadn't given Aubrey the position outright, hoping that Booth would change his mind about retirement, and that was exactly what happened. Even with the awkwardness of having to make room for Booth to come back to work, there were no hard feelings between Booth and Aubrey. They'd made a conscious effort to work together as partners, and their friendship had weathered that little storm.

Of course, Aubrey didn't really need a supervisor, having been in that position himself many times, but it seemed natural for him to fall into that pattern with Booth, especially since Booth was used to being completely in charge in most circumstances. Shrugging as he sipped his beer, Aubrey wondered if he'd been overly deferential to Booth, when in reality they should be on more equal footing, but in the long run, it didn't really matter. Working with Booth had given him a huge advantage over several other candidates for the Los Angeles position, and Aubrey was going to get his promotion to Special Agent in Charge after all. He was determined to savor the moment, no matter how it came about.

However, at that moment, Aubrey was also very drowsy, having had more than a few beers that evening. He began to nod off as he sat on the sofa, only to be jolted awake as Skinner the cat jumped on his lap.

"Meow?" The cat swished his tail, demanding to be fed, rubbing his head against Aubrey's face and kneading his paws on Aubrey's lap.

"Really, Skinner? Can't a guy take a nap on his own couch?" Aubrey gently pushed the cat aside and shook off his sleepiness as he walked into the kitchen to find the cat food. Pouring some kibbles into a small bowl, he put the dish on the floor and chuckled as the cat came running for his meal. "Yeah, that was what you wanted, right?" Watching the cat enjoy his supper, Aubrey mused to himself as he talked to the cat. "I wonder how I'm gonna get you to LA, Skinner. I don't even know where I'm gonna live, you know? I might even have to live in a hotel room for a while, and that's really not a good place for a cat, is it? I may have to find another good home for you." Hearing the cat purr as the bowl was emptied, Aubrey nodded to himself. "I bet Jessica wouldn't mind keeping you. I know she likes cats…"

And then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. "Oh, no! Jessica! I'm gonna move all the way across the country, away from her, and...Shit! What am I gonna tell Jessica?!"


	41. Chapter 41 Not Without a Fight

Special Agent James Aubrey strode purposefully into Booth's office, carrying the large carryout bag from the diner. He laughed softly at Christine's enthusiastic greeting as he held up the bag for her to see.

"Hooray! It's Uncle Aubrey!" Christine, sitting in her father's desk chair, grinned happily as soon as she saw her second favorite FBI agent enter the office. "Did you bring us some sandwiches and lotsa french fries from the diner?"

"Of course I did. It wouldn't be diner food without lotsa french fries, right? Hey, kiddo, I'm gonna talk to your daddy for a minute and then we'll have something to eat, okay?" Christine nodded, smiling innocently as she played with her father's phone, oblivious to Booth's extreme agitation. Aubrey, however, could see the pained expression and the tension in his partner's shoulders and neck muscles as he stood nervously in the doorway. He spoke quietly as the older man paced the office. "You okay, Booth?"

Shaking off Aubrey's question without an answer, Booth gently took his phone from Christine before picking up his suit coat. "I've gotta go to the lab. I've gotta see Bones…" Glancing over his shoulder at his children, Booth turned back to Aubrey. "I know it's not part of your job description…"

"No problem, Booth. I'll stay here with the kids, okay? They'll be fine. If I'm needed for anything outside the Hoover, I'll make sure there's another agent with them at all times. You go see Dr. B…"

"Yeah, thanks, Aubrey. I appreciate it." After taking one more lingering glance at his children, Booth strode quickly to the hall outside of the bullpen, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage. He turned and waved at Aubrey before entering the car, and then he was gone.

Sighing softly, Aubrey tried to act nonchalent as he turned to Christine. He knew the little girl was very perceptive for someone her age, and it was going to be difficult to carry on with the pretense that everything was just fine, when instead he was heartbroken by Jessica's announcement that she wanted to end their relationship. Opening up the bag, he concentrated on unwrapping a grilled cheese sandwich for the little girl and then a hamburger for himself before pulling out the large styrofoam container that held a large pile of french fries, setting it in the middle of the table. "Okay, here we go. I got us some extra ketchup, too." Hearing Hank stir in his sleep, Aubrey made sure the little boy was snug in the chair before turning back to his meal. Uncapping a water bottle, he handed it to the little girl and grinned. "It looks like you're missing some choppers there, aren't you? Want me to cut up your sandwich into little pieces for you so it's easier to eat?"

"Nah." Christine broke her sandwich into two large pieces and nibbled on the corner of one of the halves. "I can just use these teeth here on the side. Mommy says that my permanent teeth will grow in soon and then I'll be able to eat normally. I'll be able to eat apples and everything else I like."

Nodding in agreement, Aubrey took a bite of his burger. "Yeah, I remember how that goes from when I was a kid." Grimacing slightly, he picked up some french fries and dipped them into his large puddle of ketchup. Talking about teeth made him think of Jessica's lovely smile...and he was crushed all over again when he realized he might never have another one of them directed his way.

"Uncle Aubrey, did you have fun at the wedding last night? I did." Christine giggled happily as she rambled on about the wedding reception. "Did you see that I got to wear Dr. Saroyan's veil? I looked just like a bride, didn't I? And Daddy let me take pictures with his phone, and I danced with Daddy and with Michael-Vincent, and I ate a lot of cake. Did you dance with Miss Jessica? She looked really pretty last night, didn't she? I like weddings. I think they're fun. Mommy says there's a saying that the lady who catches the flowers that the bride throws after the wedding is supposed to get married next. Mommy said she caught some flowers at a wedding right before she and daddy got married, so maybe since Miss Jessica caught the flowers from Dr. Saroyan last night, now you and Miss Jessica can get married. If you and Miss Jessica do get married, can I come to the wedding?" Christine tilted her head to one side as she studied him closely. "Are you sick, Uncle Aubrey? It looks like you're not eating your dinner."

If he and Jessica ever got married...that seemed unlikely now. Aubrey's stomach lurched as he realized Christine had unintentionally hit the nail on the head. Jessica had looked beautiful last night, and instead of enjoying her company, he'd gotten himself rip roaring drunk. Had that been the catalyst for the break up? Had she seen all of his flaws and decided she could do better? "I'm fine. I'm just tired from being out late last night.", he lied. "I think maybe I had too much fun at the party." Aubrey folded the wrapper around the leftover portion of his hamburger and dropped it back in the bag. "My insides aren't very happy with me today."

"That's silly. Mommy says our body organs can't talk. Maybe you had too many of Uncle Jack's special drinks. Daddy said they were stiff, but I don't know what that means…" Christine continued to chatter about the wedding and the reception as she enjoyed her french fries.

"It means I made a mistake when I had more than one of those fancy drinks that Dr. Hodgins served at the party." Too many stiff drinks, and not enough time talking about their future together. It seemed that had been the recipe for the disaster that had ended his relationship with his girlfriend. Preoccupied with his own sad thoughts, Aubrey tried to pay attention to what Christine was telling him, but his mind kept wandering back to everything that had happened that morning. They'd been out looking at a set of remains when he'd told Jessica that he wanted her to move to LA with him. She was less than thrilled with the idea at first, but it seemed like she might consider it if he played his cards right. Then later that day, seemingly out of the blue, she'd come to see him at the Hoover, telling him that not only would she be staying in DC instead of moving to Los Angeles with him, but that they were through...completely over. It'd really stung to hear her say that there was no future in their relationship. He'd thought they'd come to an understanding about what they wanted out of their life together, but evidently he was dead wrong. Shocked and speechless at the sudden turn of events, he'd wanted to say something...anything...to make her change her mind, but his goddamn phone rang, and he was needed elsewhere immediately. The more he thought about it, the more irritated he'd become. After all their time together, did Jessica really think she could just break it off between them like that without telling him why? He deserved an explanation. It had never occurred to him that she might say no to moving to California with him, and now all he could think about what how much he had wanted her to say yes...to say that she loved him, and that she'd follow him anywhere. He shook his head as he thought things through. Maybe he could convince her to reconsider being together if he decided to stay in Washington. He was willing to do that for her, knowing that a big promotion wouldn't mean much to him unless she was there to share his success with him. He needed to talk to her as soon as possible...if only he could get her to answer her phone…

"Uncle Aubrey?" Christine tapped him on the arm. "I need to use the restroom."

"Um, okay. I tell you what, I'm gonna have Agent Nelson take you so I can stay here with Hank, alright?" Aubrey went to the doorway and waved at a female agent. "Little missy here needs to use the facilities. Can you take her? I need to stay with that one…" He pointed toward the chair. "Let sleeping dogs and sleeping children lie, you know?"

"Yeah, believe me, after three kids, I know. Come along, young lady." Christine took the agent's hand as they left to find the bathroom.

Sitting in Booth's chair, Aubrey sighed unhappily as he gazed out the window. He'd always wanted kids of his own, and he'd let himself imagine what it might be like when he and Jessica had a family of their own...but that wasn't going to happen now...

Groaning in frustration, Aubrey pounded the desk with his fist. He couldn't let things end this way. He wasn't going to just walk away from this relationship with his tail tucked between his legs. He wasn't going down without a fight. He wasn't going to give up Jessica without making a stand. He and Jessica were going to finish the conversation they'd started in that interrogation room earlier in the day, and he was going to make her listen as he told her everything he was feeling...he was gonna spill his proverbial guts. He was going to find out what had gone wrong, and he was going to beg for a chance to fix it. If nothing else, he'd offer an apology for hurting her enough to make her break up with him. He pulled out his phone to call her again when a panicked agent came running from the bullpen into the office.

"Agent Aubrey…they wanted me to tell you…" The distraught man panted heavily as he leaned against the doorway.

"What is it, Ellis? What's wrong?" Aubrey rose from the desk chair quickly as a sense of dread filled him. "Is it Booth? Oh, my God...Kovacs?"

"It's the lab, Aubrey...there's been a series of massive explosions at the Jeffersonian. It's bad...I guess the whole building is on fire...there's not much left of the place…"

"Jesus…okay, listen...I need you to keep an eye on this little guy for me for just a few minutes." Picking up his phone and keys, Aubrey was grim as he ran to find Agent Nelson. He took her aside, speaking softly so Christine couldn't hear them. "Hey, I've got to go to the Jeffersonian. It sounds like something awful has happened over there. Don't leave those kids alone for a minute, understand?" Nelson nodded as Aubrey hunkered down to talk to Christine. "I've got to go do something important. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"Okay." Christine regarded him solemnly. "Are my mommy and daddy okay, Uncle Aubrey?"

He bit his lip as he thought about how to truthfully answer the child's question. "That's what I'm gonna find out, Honey." Patting her head, he jogged to the elevator, praying that his friends were safe as he headed for the Jeffersonian.


	42. Chapter 42 A Loose End

_A/N: As many of you know, I hate loose ends in stories, and as much as I enjoyed the series finale, I found myself wishing I knew what had finally happened between Aubrey and Jessica, so I decided to tie up that loose end myself._

* * *

Aubrey leaned back in his desk chair, snacking on a drumstick as he watched Karen polish off a couple of wings. "Thanks for the fried chicken, Karen. It's really good. Nice of you to think about my need for emotional eating. Pass me the coleslaw, okay? Thanks." He spooned a couple of big helpings of the creamy mixture on his plate before eyeing Karen with mild suspicion. "So...how did you know that Jessica broke up with me?"

"Oh…" Concentrating on her mashed potatoes and gravy, Karen shrugged as she flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. "She called me last night…she was really upset by the whole thing..."

"She talked to you about why she broke up with me instead of talking to me…" Pursing his lips as he wiped his hands on a napkin, Aubrey shook his head. "Great. That's just great." He groaned softly as he reached for his water bottle. "I just don't understand what happened between us. I thought we were happy together, you know? That things were going really well. I mean, this break up just seemed to come from nowhere…it was like one minute we're fine, and then the next minute she says we have no future together...I had no idea she felt that way."

"Yeah, I know you don't understand. I think that was part of the problem." Karen paused, trying to make sure she chose her words carefully. Taking a sip of water, she smiled gently at the confused man sitting behind the desk. "Jessica cares about you, and she knows you care about her, but you seemed so unsure about what you wanted from her and from your relationship, you know? You said yourself you were avoiding her, right? You were awkward and uncomfortable with what your promotion would mean to both of you, and you weren't exactly honest about that. She's smart...she figured that out very quickly, and it really hurt her feelings. It's kind of like you shut her out of your life..."

Pausing as he looked up from his ear of corn, Aubrey glowered at Karen. "Did you two talk about me and her being a couple while I was passed out in your guest room? I didn't even get a chance to defend myself...that's hardly fair…"

Karen grimaced as she shrugged her shoulders again. "Look, Aubrey...I'm a psychologist. People talk to me whether I want them to or not. She told me that she wondered what she'd done to make you so uncomfortable...so unhappy with her...and she thought maybe the reason you got so schnockered at the reception was because she'd caught the bouquet and it made you feel trapped...like she'd forced your hand on things before you were ready to take the next step. The panic on your face when you saw what had happened with the bouquet didn't help things, either." Karen picked up another chicken wing. "I think you two should've talked to each other more…"

"That's crazy, Karen. I wasn't unhappy with her. I have no idea why she'd feel that way. We talked all the time...about all sorts of things...we liked the same things...we had fun together…" Aubrey sighed heavily. "I really enjoyed her company…I love her…"

"And I think she loves you, Aubrey, but I'm not sure she's as ready for the same kind of committed relationship as you are...and maybe you aren't ready for it, either. That was what you really needed to talk about...the more serious stuff. Jessica thinks you asked her to move to LA with you because of peer pressure...because everybody else expected it of you instead of because you really wanted her to go, and if that was true, there'd be a chance that you'd break up once you got there and then she'd be stuck in LA after giving up her life here in DC…" Karen spooned some more potatoes on her plate. "She got really nervous, trying to decide what to do about the relationship between the two of you. She kept waiting for you to talk to her about your promotion and about her making the move with you, but you took a such a long time to say anything to her that she felt like an afterthought, and then you wanted a decision right away, like you were forcing her into something she wasn't sure she wanted. I mean, asking her to move to LA while you're out looking at a dead body in the middle of nowhere isn't really conducive to a meaningful discussion about life altering decisions." Aubrey cringed, knowing how ill timed his request had been. "I guess finally she couldn't see any way out of the situation other than ending the relationship. It's drastic, but it made sense to her…she was upset because she didn't really want to break up with you, but I think it was that whole 'pulling off the band aid' thing. It hurt her badly, but she felt like that's what she had to do."

"But I'm not going to LA now…" Aubrey took a chicken breast out of the bucket. "I don't see why things have to be that way. I don't understand why we can't try to work things out." Using his fork to move his baked beans around on his plate, Aubrey thought over the situation again. "If I could only get her to talk to me, but she won't even answer her phone…" Chewing his lip, he tapped his fingers nervously on his desk. "I need to talk to her…"

Karen shook her head slightly as she listened to Aubrey's melancholy complaint. "I'm not sure she'll want to see you…she probably wants to make a clean break. Maybe you need to just give her some space and let her come to that idea on her own."

"Nope, I don't want to risk it. I gotta try to make her see things differently. We've had too many good times together for me to give her up after five minutes of discussion in an interrogation room at the Hoover. She said we could finish our conversation later, but with the explosion at the Jeffersonian and everything that happened with Kovac, we never got the chance." Aubrey suddenly wasn't hungry any more. "I gotta see her one more time...maybe I can get her to meet me at the diner, or maybe I'll just go by her apartment…"

"She's probably over at the Jeffersonian right about now, helping them clean up…she might feel comfortable enough to talk to you there." Karen sighed as she watched Aubrey finish his meal, wondering if he would really want to hear what Jessica had to say. "If you want to talk about things later...I'll be here to listen, okay?"

"Yeah...thanks, Karen. I appreciate it. And thanks again for the chicken, okay?" Aubrey grabbed his keys and his phone. "I'll talk to you later and let you know what happens."

"Okey-dokey…" Karen packaged up the leftovers and put them in the breakroom refrigerator, knowing that Aubrey might want to do some more emotional eating later, after Jessica told him what she really thought.

Oooooooooo

Standing in the doorway of one of the damaged offices, Aubrey bit his lip as he fidgeted with his keys. "Hey, Jessica…"

She kept working on stacking some small boxes without looking up at him. "Hi, Aubrey. Listen, I'm really busy...I don't have time to talk…I've got to box up some of this equipment."

"Look…" He held up his phone and turned it off. "I'm turning off my phone so we don't have any interruptions while we talk, okay? No running off to talk to a suspect instead of you. I only need a few minutes. Please? For old times sake?" He tried to smile without much success. "C'mon, Jess. What would Princess Leia do for Han Solo?"

Jessica brushed the hair out of her face as she moved another box. "Aubrey…" She clenched her jaw as she tried to control her emotions. "I've got a lot of work to do…"

He took a step closer to her. "I understand...I really do...but I want...no, I _need_ to finish the conversation we started in that interrogation room at the Hoover the other day. I haven't really gotten to see you since the explosion here and everything else that happened." He desperately wanted to reach out and embrace her, but her body language made him think better of it. "I've thought about it a lot, and I know I've been a real asshole, Jessica, and I know I haven't treated you the way you deserve to be treated. I don't expect you to change your mind about breaking up with me, but I just want you to know that I'm sorry I hurt you. I should've been straight with you from the beginning about that promotion, but I wasn't sure..."

"You weren't sure you wanted me to be a part of your life any more…not like that." Jessica sniffled, trying not to cry. "I completely understand…after all, I'm not sure I want you in my life like that any more, either."

"No, it wasn't like that, Jess. The problem was that I didn't know if I had the right to even ask you to move with me...to take you away from your life here. I guess I wasn't really sure where we stood...where we stand...God, I've just fucked everything up so bad…"

"Yeah, you definitely did." Jessica stood with her hands on her hips, nodding over her shoulder. "...and I have to get back to work…"

Aubrey wasn't going to give up that easily. "Listen, Jessica...you know I love you, right? I was just scared that I'd do the wrong thing, you know? It seemed like either way I'd be doing the wrong thing…" He jammed his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot as he tried to figure out how to explain things better.

"I love you, too, Aubrey, but I don't know if that's enough right now. If we love each other, but we're scared to make a move together because it might not work out between us, then we need to move on to something else, because what we have right now isn't working." Jessica wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned away from him. "I hate to say it...I really do...but as far as I can tell, there is no future for us together. We don't mean enough to each other to make that long term type of commitment...to move across the country together or to do anything else together."

Aubrey suddenly realized Jessica hadn't heard about his change in plans. "Listen, I'm not going to LA after all. Somebody's retiring and I got offered the same promotion here in DC." He saw Jessica flinch slightly before she moved another box. "I know you said we have no future together now...but, I was wondering if there's any chance that we could...if you'd consider...I mean…maybe we could keep in touch...see each other from time to time...I really don't want to give up on us, Jessica...not yet. Would you consider giving us another chance? Maybe a chance to see if we could grow into maybe having a future together some day?"

"I don't know." Jessica shook her head as she looked Aubrey in the eyes. "I'll have to think about it, but don't hold your breath, okay? I'm not sure that's a good idea. I think I'd rather just be done with the whole thing...I think I should let you go and move on with my life. For now, please let me get back to work. When I decide what I want to do, I'll be in touch."

Shoulders drooping, Aubrey nodded sadly. "I understand. Okay, see you around...maybe on a case…"

"Yeah…" Jessica paused as she wiped her hands on her lab coat, watching him walk away. "If we do see each other at work, we have to be professional, okay?"

"Just like always…" Aubrey stared at his shoes, sighing heavily as he realized his efforts at a possible reconciliation had failed.

"And afterwards, maybe a cup of coffee?" Jessica shrugged as Aubrey turned to look at her with a hopeful smile on his face. "Not that we'll get back together as a couple…"

"Yeah, of course. No strings...no expectations...no rushing into things, right? We can at least be on friendly terms, right?" Aubrey grinned at Jessica as she tentatively nodded in agreement.

"Exactly. Now...I really do have to get back to work." Jessica gave an airy wave of her hand to dismiss him. "Oh, by the way, when you see Karen, I tell her I said hello. I figured she'd tell you everything that I told her the other night..."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just to tell me everything yourself, Jessica?" Aubrey pretended to scowl at her as she smirked at him.

"You don't always listen to me, Aubrey, but I figured Karen would ply you with food, and then, when you were comfortably full, she'd tell you everything. She has the hots for you, you know? She's probably thrilled that we're not together any more."

Arching an eyebrow, Aubrey chuckled. "Yeah, I know. You should've seen how much chicken she brought me to help ease my broken heart…two family sized barrels of extra crispy, extra spicy recipe with all the sides and extra biscuits."

"Two buckets? Already? Really…" Jessica was obviously not amused. "With all the sides?"

"And extra biscuits with honey butter." Smirking at Jessica's apparent twinge of jealousy, Aubrey decided to tease her a little bit for old times' sake. "Yeah, but that doesn't make any difference to you, right? After all, you're not my girlfriend any more…we're just work colleagues." He flashed a dimpled smile at her as he ducked out of the way of her pretend slap on the arm. "See you in a couple of weeks, okay?"

Smiling slightly, Jessica turned back to stacking her boxes. "Okay...see you soon." She watched him leave out of the corner of her eye, wondering how long she'd actually be able to keep that man at arm's length and completely out of her life.

Chuckling to himself, Aubrey glanced over his shoulder to see Jessica watching him. He was well aware of the tiny seed of jealousy that he'd planted, and he thought maybe things might work out between them in the long run, but if not, at least he could count on Karen to bring him some more fried chicken.

Sometimes, he thought to himself, a man just has to make the best of a bad situation.

* * *

 _Okay...I feel a little better now. I keep hoping we'll find out what happens next week, but sadly there will be no 'next week' on our show. *sigh*_


	43. Chapter 43 The Center Will Hold

"Hiya, Bones. Sorry I'm so late." Booth gave his wife a peck on the cheek as she met him at the front door. "I guess I missed telling the kids good night, but I wanted to tie up all the loose ends on Jeannine Kovac's case before the weekend got here. Are you feeling better today?"

"I told Hank and Christine you'd go in and give them each a good night kiss and hug after you got home." Brennan moved her head from side to side, stretching her neck and grimacing slightly as she hung Booth's overcoat in the hall closet. "I'm still somewhat sore, but I suppose that's to be expected when a building crashes down upon someone. Other than that, I'm feeling quite well." Brennan smiled as she caressed her husband's cheek. "How are you feeling? It looks like your cuts and scrapes are healing nicely. I doubt that there'll be much scarring."

Smiling, Booth shrugged as he walked into the living room. "I'm fine. I think the force of the blast actually threw me clear of most of the big stuff that could fall on me." He draped his suit jacket and tie across the back of a chair before plopping down on the sofa. "So I guess your mini-vacation is almost over, isn't it? Back to work at the lab on Monday morning, right?"

"Yes, that's correct. I must say that even though I've enjoyed having the last few weeks off to relax and recuperate, I've found myself growing restless while I've been here at home for such an extended period of time. Even with starting a new book, I feel like I should be doing something more constructive." Brennan handed Booth a glass of Scotch before sitting down next to him. "After all, there are only so many times a person can clean out closets."

"Maybe you should've spent some of your time off finding a new home for all those books you still have lying around the house." Booth chuckled as his wife narrowed her eyes, glaring at him as she pretended to be annoyed. "Yeah, I know what you mean, Bones. It always sounds like fun to sit around the house doing nothing for a couple of weeks, but when you get right down to it, we're both too action oriented for that sort of thing, right?"

"Very true." Brennan nestled next to her husband as he put his arm around her. "However, I was quite busy today. I read through all of the new intern applications and have selected ten applicants to advance to the interview phase. Then Wendell came by after lunch with some forms he wanted me to see. He's going to apply for the doctorate in biomedical engineering program at George Washington University."

Grimacing slightly, Booth puffed out a small sigh. "Are you sure that's the best thing for him to do, Bones? It seems like it's going to be a lot of extra time and trouble for him, not to mention the expense…"

"I don't think the transition will be difficult at all. He already has an extensive background in how the human musculoskeletal system works, and I plan to meet with his new advisor at the university to ensure that Wendell's plan of study is designed to take his prior educational program into account so he doesn't have to do any more class work than is absolutely necessary. He should be able to finish in approximately two years." Brennan smiled as she thought about what she and her former intern had discussed earlier that afternoon. "Wendell has decided that he wants to focus on assisting paralytics such as Hodgins. He hopes to design and implement technology that may help other people learn to walk again after they've suffered a catastrophic spinal cord injury. He was quite excited about this new program, Booth...more excited than I've ever seen him when he's been doing something involving forensic anthropology. He already has a proposal written out for his dissertation."

"But the money...his old neighborhood already ponied up the cash for his education, and now he's gonna need more…"

"Wendell will probably be receiving some grant money from several organizations, such as those which assist disabled veterans. The military is also interested in that sort of research, so they might provide some funding, and I'm in a position to assist him financially if necessary." Brennan blushed slightly under Booth's tender gaze. "I want him to be successful no matter what he chooses to study." She shifted slightly on the sofa as she changed the subject. "I also received phone calls from Finn Abernathy and Dr. Fuentes today. Both of them were quite concerned when they heard the news about the lab's destruction."

Booth nodded as he ran his fingers around the rim of his glass. "Dr. Fuentes went to work in Florida, right? What about Finn? That's the guy who used to be Michelle's boyfriend, right?"

"Yes, he's the one. He's married now and he and his wife are expecting their first child. He works for the Mississippi State Medical Examiner's office. Dr. Fuentes is taking part in a research fellowship at the University of Miami. The only person I haven't heard from lately is Dr. Wells."

"Well, honestly, that's no great loss, is it?" Booth chuckled at his wife's annoyance. "I say good riddance to the jerk."

"I suppose you're right, Booth. Dr. Wells is truly a very unpleasant man." Brennan rolled her eyes at her husband's 'I told you so' look. "Has Aubrey made a smooth transition to his new supervisory position?"

"Yeah, it seems like it. I talked to him today...we had lunch together...and things seem to be going really well in his division. My guess is that he'll be an assistant director before we know it." Booth sipped his scotch and smiled. "Don't tell him I said this, Bones, but he's an excellent FBI agent. He never should've been under my supervision...he didn't need any mentoring at all, really. They should've moved him up to the supervisory level a couple of years ago, although I'm glad they didn't. I've enjoyed working with him." He groaned slightly at his wife's smug expression. "I know...you were right. Aubrey is a good man, and I should've trusted him from the start." Booth laughed quietly as he shook his head. "He's pretty brave, too. Did I ever tell you that he called me an idiot to my face?"

Brennan was shocked. "Why would he do that, Booth? I can't imagine…" She shuddered slightly, wondering how Aubrey had managed to escape Booth's office in one piece.

"I was shutting him out of the case, remember? The one we had about that murdered talk radio personality? Aubrey wasn't Sweets, and I was still grieving…I still missed Sweets a lot." Booth swallowed hard as he thought of his late friend. "Anyway, Aubrey told me that I was an idiot for refusing to work with a good agent like him, and if I treated him like shit, it was kind of like treating Sweets like shit, since Sweets had handpicked Aubrey to be his replacement. At first, I was stunned, you know? I couldn't believe Aubrey had the balls to talk to me like that, but you know what? He was right about everything he said. He earned a lot of respect from me that day…"

"I can see that, Booth. Has he recovered from Ms. Warren's ending their relationship?" Brennan eyed her husband quizzically. "I was actually quite surprised she chose to do that…"

"Yeah, I think he's finally on the mend. I was surprised that she broke up with him, too, but he'll probably be fine in another few weeks or so." Booth laughed as he took another sip from his glass. "Remember how persistent he was when me and him first started working together? He wouldn't give me a moment's peace until I saw things his way and began to take him with me while I was working on a case, right? He was so obnoxious, almost like a bratty little kid, you know? But guess what...it worked, and I got a good partner out of the deal. So if he really wants Ms. Warren back, I imagine he'll operate in that same way...he won't quit pestering her until she takes him back." Booth chuckled as he winked at Brennan. "Of course, now Karen Delfs is hot on Aubrey's trail, and it looks like he might be interested in conducting an investigation into that situation as well. Who knows? I guess he's got a thing for redheads. Anyway, he's gonna be real busy right now, what with starting this new job and all, and he might not have time for either one of them…"

Brennan giggled as she patted her husband's knee. "Or he may try to juggle both of them at the same time, or he may even pick out someone new to be his paramour. Just more fodder for the FBI gossip mill." She got up to pour herself a glass of wine. "Speaking of the FBI, have you met your new partner yet?"

"Yeah, I met her this morning. Her name is Valerie Smith. I think you'll like her. She's really smart, and she's open to learning new things. She's working on her master's degree in criminology..."

"Caroline says Ms. Smith is very attractive..." Brennan smirked as she sat down next to her husband. "...but I'm sure you didn't notice, did you?"

"Well, I guess if a guy likes young, tall, slender women with long blonde hair, big blue eyes and a well stacked figure, I suppose she's attractive." Seeing his wife's slight scowl, Booth snickered as he took another sip of his scotch. "She and her wife just moved here from Denver…"

"Her wife? Oh…" Brennan nodded as she sipped her wine. "I see…well, I hope things will work out well between you two."

"Yeah, I think they will. You know, things are changing everywhere right now, aren't they? I guess Hodgins has had a lot of fun buying all of the new toys for the lab…" Booth grinned happily. "He's finally King of the Lab for real, right?"

"He has enjoyed himself tremendously. I don't think Cam will recognize the place when she returns from her family leave." Brennan twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. "Yes, you're right. Things are changing, and I'd say mostly for the better. Angela called yesterday to tell me that her ultrasound showed that their child is indeed a boy, and she's planning on taking at least six months to stay home with him after his birth. I'm going to miss seeing her every day, but I can understand why she feels that's necessary, especially with Hodgins taking on more responsibility at the lab." Brennan exhaled softly. "They're going to name their son after Hodgins' brother and her father…Jeffrey William."

Hearing his wife's soft sigh, Booth pulled her close as he spoke to her in a gentle tone. "What's the matter, Bones? Are you feeling a bit blue? You know things are gonna get back to normal real soon, right? The lab will be up and running just like nothing had ever happened. Things are gonna be fine, and we'll be back to solving all those unsolvable murders in no time."

"I know things will be fine eventually. I'm not feeling sad." She brushed away a stray tear. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am, Booth. Even after everything that has happened to us and to all our friends, we're all still happily living our lives. The fact that you love me no matter what happens...that you'd still love me even if I'd lost my intellectual abilities...it's difficult for me to explain how much that means to me, but I find that it pleases me very much."

"C'mon, Bones...even if your abilities, or whatever the hell you call them, had dropped off some because of your concussion, you'd still be the smartest woman in the world, and definitely a lot smarter than me." Booth shook his head at his wife's frown. "That was never gonna be a problem for us…I wouldn't give up on you for something minor like that. I'm never gonna give up on you ever."

"I know how intelligent you are, Booth, so don't try to make that excuse with me." Brennan swirled her wine around in her glass. "You do realize, don't you, that it was possible, and even likely, that the explosion might have caused me to have permanent brain damage? I was quite fortunate my cognitive loss was only temporary."

Booth nodded, blinking back a few tears before he spoke again. "Maybe you _were_ lucky, but the way I see it, Bones, I'm really the lucky one in this relationship. Seeing you open your eyes and look up at me from the floor of your office after the explosion...Jesus, I was so scared, and then I was so thankful for that moment when you spoke to me, asking what happened...I was so thankful that I hadn't lost you." He sighed as he leaned back against the sofa. "So here's the thing...remember when I had my brain surgery, and you helped me relearn so many of the ordinary things I'd forgotten, like I want brown sugar on my oatmeal, and that I like my cocky belt buckle, and I wear crazy ties and socks? It never occurred to you not to help me, even when I was a pain in the ass while I was getting better. I was so blessed to have you help me through that rough time and the other rough times in my life...even when I was gambling again." Booth kissed his wife gently before he continued. "I'm always gonna be here to help you if you need it, and you're gonna be here to help me, and it's gonna be that way for the rest of our lives, okay? A lot of things may change at the FBI and at the Jeffersonian, but when it comes to me and you, things are always gonna stay the same between us, if I have anything to do with it. You're always gonna be my partner, my lover...and you're always gonna be my life, okay? I love you, Bones, and I always will. You know that, right?"

"I love you, too, Booth, and even through all of the changes and all of the evolution that's occurred between us and around us, I know you will be the one constant that I can rely on. I know our center will hold through all of the changes that occur in our lives." She reached up to kiss his cheek. "As I said, I've been very fortunate."

Smiling as he rubbed her shoulder, Booth pulled his wife into his embrace. "Me, too, Bones...me, too."

* * *

 _A/N: this is the last chapter in this series. Thank you for all the kind comments. They are appreciated. I will continue to write Bones fan fiction even though the series has ended. I plan to give this same treatment to some of the other episodes in my series called Thoughts on Being a Duck. I also have other stories in the works. If you enjoy bones fan fiction, check this site often. Many writers have plans to continue writing fan fiction for our beloved show as long as there are people willing to read it._

 _More soon._

 _Laura_


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